GIFT   OF 


THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 


I'll  hit  any  trail  with  you  —  barring  Mexican  politics." 

[Pag'e  79] 


The 

Treasure  Trail 

A  Romance  of  the  Land  of 
Gold  and  Sunshine 

By 
MARAH  ELLIS  RYAN 


Illustrated 
By  Rooert  Amlck 


PUBLISHERS         CHICAGO 
A.   C.   McCLURG   &   CO 

1919 


Copyright 
A.  C.  McCLURG  &  CO. 

1918 


Published  November,  1918 


Copyrighted  in  Great  Britain 


C/*ss   of  /3d? 


W.  r.  MALL  MINTING  COMPAMY,  CHICAGO 


To 
Kalatoka 

of  the  brown  tent 


Contents 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I  Kit  and  the  Girl  of  the  Lark  Call    .      .      .      .  I 

II     The  Red  Gold  Legend 15 

III  A  Verified  Prophecy  of  Senorita  Billie     .      .  54 

IV  In  the  Adobe  of  Pedro  Vijil 66 

V    An  "Adios"  —  and  After 73 

VI  A  Dead  Man  Under  the  Cottonwoods     .      .  90 

VII     In  the  Province  of  Altar 107 

VIII    The  Slave  Trail 124 

IX    A  Meeting  at  Yaqui  Well 133 

X    A  Mexican  Eaglet 144 

XI    Gloom  of  Billie 161 

XII    Covering  the  Trail 167 

XIII  A  Woman  of  Emerald  Eyes 186 

XIV  The  Hawk  of  the  Sierras 217 

XV  The  "  Judas "  Prayer  at  Mesa  Blanca     .      .  230 

XVI  The  Secret  of   Soledad   Chapel      ....  256 

XVII     The  Story  of  Dona  Jocasta 288 

XVIII     Ramon  Rotil  Decides 300 

XIX    The  Return  of  Tula 328 

XX    Eagle  and  Serpent 346 

XXI    Each  to  His  Own 360 


Illustrations 


PAGE 

"  I'll  hit  any  trail  with  you  —  barring  Mexican  poli 
tics  " Frontispiece 

"You  poor  kid,  you  have  a  hard  time  with  the  dis 
reputables  you  pick  up " 76 

"  No,  Ramon!    No! "  she  cried,  and  flung  herself  be 
tween  him  and  his  victims 280 

The  Indian  girl  was  steadily  gaining  on  the  German  .   356 


The  Treasure  Trail 


CHAPTER  I 

KIT  AND  THE  GIRL  OF  THE  LARK  CALL 

IN  THE  shade  of  Pedro  Vijil's  little  brown  adobe  on 
the  Granados  rancho,  a  horseman  squatted  to  repair 
a  broken  cinch  with  strips  of  rawhide,  while  his  horse  — 
a  strong  dappled  roan  with  a  smutty  face  —  stood  near, 
the  rawhide  bridle  over  his  head  and  the  quirt  trailing 
the  ground. 

The  horseman's  frame  of  mind  was  evidently  not  of 
the  sweetest,  for  to  Vijil  he  had  expressed  himself  in 
forcible  Mexican  —  which  is  supposed  to  be  Spanish  and 
often  isn't  —  condemning  the  luck  by  which  the  cinch 
had  gone  bad  at  the  wrong  time,  and  as  he  tinkered  he 
sang  softly  an  old  southern  ditty : 

Oh  —  oh!    I'm  a  good  old  rebel, 

Now  that's  just  what  I  am! 
For  I  won't  be  reconstructed 

And  I  don't  care  a  damn! 

He  varied  this  musical  gem  occasionally  by  whistling 
the  air  as  he  punched  holes  and  wove  the  rawhide  thongs 
in  and  out  through  the  spliced  leather. 

1 


2  :    : .      THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

Once  he  halted  in  the  midst  of  a  strain  and  lifted  his 
head,  listening.  Something  like  an  echo  of  his  own  notes 
sounded  very  close,  a  mere  shadow  of  a  whistle. 

Directly  over  his  head  was  a  window,  unglazed  and 
wooden  barred.  A  fat  brown  olla,  dripping  moisture, 
almost  filled  the  deep  window  sill,  but  the  interior  was 
all  in  shadow.  Its  one  door  was  closed.  The  Vijil  family 
was  scattered  around  in  the  open,  most  of  them  under 
the  ramada,  and  after  a  frowning  moment  of  mystifica 
tion  the  young  fellow  resumed  his  task,  but  in  silence. 

Then,  after  a  still  minute,  more  than  the  whisper  of 
a  whistle  came  to  him  —  the  subdued  sweet  call  of  a 
meadow  lark.  It  was  so  sweet  it  might  have  been  mate 
to  any  he  had  heard  on  the  range  that  morning. 

Only  an  instant  he  hesitated,  then  with  equal  care  he 
gave  the  duplicate  call,  and  held  his  breath  to  listen  — 
not  a  sound  came  back. 

"We've  gone  loco,  Pardner,"  he  observed  to  the 
smutty-faced  roan  moving  near  him.  "That  jolt  from 
the  bay  outlaw  this  morning  has  jingled  my  brain  pans  — 
we  don't  hear  birds  call  us  —  we  only  think  we  do." 

If  he  had  even  looked  at  Pardner  he  might  have  been 
given  a  sign,  for  the  roan  had  lifted  its  head  and  was 
staring  into  the  shadows  back  of  the  sweating  olla. 

"Hi,youcaballero!" 

The  words  were  too  clear  to  be  mistaken,  the  "  cabal- 
lero"  stared  across  to  the  only  people  in  sight.  There 
was  Pedro  Vijil  sharpening  an  axe,  while  Merced,  his 
wife,  turned  the  creaking  grindstone  for  him.  The  young 
olive  branches  of  the  Vijil  family  were  having  fun  with 
a  horned  toad  under  the  ramada  where  gourd  vines 


THE  GIRL  OF  THE  LARK  ^LL  3 


twisted  about  an  ancient  grape,  and  red  peppers  hung  in 
a  gorgeous  splash  of  color.  Between  that  and  the  blue 
haze  of  the  far  mountains  there  was  no  sign  of  humanity 
to  account  for  such  cheery  youthful  Americanism  as  the 
tone  suggested. 

"Hi,  yourself!"  he  retorted,  "whose  ghost  are  you?" 

There  was  a  giggle  from  the  barred  window  of  the 
adobe. 

"I  don't  dare  say  because  I  am  not  respectable  just 
now,"  replied  the  voice.  "  I  fell  in  the  ditch  and  have 
nothing  on  but  the  Sunday  shirt  of  Pedro.  I  am  the 
funniest  looking  thing!  wish  I  dared  ride  home  in  it  to 
shock  them  all  silly." 

"Why  not?"  he  asked,  and  again  the  girlish  laugh 
gave  him  an  odd  thrill  of  comradeship. 

"A  good  enough  reason;  they'd  take  Pat  from  me, 
and  say  he  wasn't  safe  to  ride  —  but  he  is!  My  tumble 
was  my  own  fault  for  letting  them  put  on  that  fool  Eng 
lish  saddle.  Never  again  for  me ! " 

"  They  are  all  right  for  old  folks  and  a  pacing  pony," 
he  observed,  and  again  he  heard  the  bubbling  laugh. 

"Well,  Pat  is  not  a  pacing  pony,  not  by  a  long  shot; 
and  I'm  not  old  folks  —  yet ! "  Then  after  a  little  silence, 
"Haven't  you  any  curiosity?" 

"  I  reckon  there's  none  allowed  me  on  this  count,"  he 
replied  without  lifting  his  head,  "between  the  wooden 
bars  and  Pedro's  shirt  you  certainly  put  the  fences  up 
on  me." 

"  I'm  a  damsel  in  distress  waiting  for  a  rescuing  knight 
with  a  white  banner  and  a  milk-white  steed — "  went  on 
the  laughing  voice  in  stilted  declamation. 


4     •'•-. : :/]  -.: ;  T^Hg  TREASURE  TRAIL 

"  Sorry,  friend,  but  my  cayuse  is  a  roan,  and  I  never 
carried  a  white  flag  yet.  You  pick  the  wrong  colors." 

Whereupon  he  began  the  chanting  of  a  war  song,  with 
an  eye  stealthily  on  the  barred  window. 

Hurrah!     Hurrah!     For  southern  rights,  hurrah! 
Hurrah  for  the  bonnie  blue  flag 
That  bears  the  single  star! 

"Oh!  /  know  that!"  the  voice  was  now  a  hail  of  rec 
ognition.  "  Cap  Pike  always  sings  that  when  he's  a  little 
*  how-came-ye-so ' — and  you're  a  Johnny  Reb!" 

"  Um !  twice  removed,"  assented  the  man  by  the  wall, 
"and  you  are  a  raiding  Yank  who  has  been  landed  in 
one  of  our  fortresses  with  only  one  shirt  to  her  back, 
and  that  one  borrowed." 

He  had  a  momentary  vision  of  two  laughing  gray 
eyes  beside  the  olla,  and  the  girl  behind  the  bars  laughed 
until  Merced  let  the  grindstone  halt  while  she  cast  a 
glance  towards  the  house  as  if  in  doubt  as  to  whether 
three  feet  of  adobe  wall  and  stout  bars  could  serve 
instead  of  a  duena  to  foolish  young  Americans  who 
chattered  according  to  their  foolishness. 

There  was  an  interval  of  silence,  and  then  the  girlish 
voice  called  again. 

"Hi,  Johnny  Reb!" 

"  Same  to  you,  Miss  Yank." 

"Aren't  you  the  new  Americano  from  California,  for 
the  La  Partida  rancho  ?  " 

"  Even  so,  O  wise  one  of  the  borrowed  garment."  The 
laugh  came  to  him  again. 


THE  GIRL  OF  THE  LARK  CALL  5 

"Why  don't  you  ask  how  I  know?"  she  demanded. 

"It  is  borne  in  upon  me  that  you  are  a  witch  of  the 
desert,  or  the  ghost  of  a  dream,  that  you  see  through  the 
adobe  wall,  and  my  equally  thick  skull.  Far  be  it  for 
me  to  doubt  that  the  gift  of  second  sight  is  yours,  O 
seventh  daughter  of  a  seventh  daughter!" 

"No  such  thing!  I'm  the  only  one!"  came  the  quick 
retort,  and  the  young  chap  in  the  shade  of  the  adobe 
shook  with  silent  mirth. 

"  I  see  you  laughing,  Mr.  Johnny  Reb,  you  think  you 
caught  me  that  time.  But  you  just  halt  and  listen  to 
me,  I've  a  hunch  and  I'm  going  to  prophesy." 

"  I  knew  you  had  the  gift  of  second  sight ! " 

"Maybe  you  won't  believe  me,  but  the  hunch  is  that 
you  —  won't  —  hold  —  the  job  on  these  ranches!" 

"  What! "  and  he  turned  square  around  facing  the  win 
dow,  then  laughed.  "That's  the  way  you  mean  to  get 
even  for  the  'seventh  daughter'  guess  is  it?  You  think 
I  can't  handle  horses?" 

"  Nix,"  was  the  inelegant  reply,  "  I  know  you  can,  for 
I  saw  you  handle  that  bay  outlaw  they  ran  in  on  you  this 
morning :  seven  years  old  and  no  wrangler  in  Pima  could 
ride  him.  Old  Cap  Pike  said  it  was  a  damn  shame  to 
put  you  up  against  that  sun-fisher  as  an  introduction  to 
Granados." 

"Oh!  Pike  did,  did  he?  Nice  and  sympathetic  of  Pike. 
I  reckon  he's  the  old-time  ranger  I  heard  about  out  at 
the  Junction,  reading  a  red-fire  riot  to  some  native  sons 
who  were  not  keen  for  the  cactus  trail  of  the  Villistas. 
That  old  captain  must  be  a  live  wire,  but  he  thinks  I  can't 
stick?" 


6 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

"No-o,  that  wasn't  Cap  Pike,  that  was  my  own 
hunch.  Say,  are  you  married?" 

"O  sefiorita!  this  is  so  sudden!"  he  spoke  in  shy 
reproof,  twisting  his  neckerchief  in  mock  embarrass 
ment,  and  again  Merced  looked  toward  the  house  because 
of  peals  of  laughter  there. 

"  You  are  certainly  funny  when  you  do  that,"  she  said 
after  her  laughter  had  quieted  down  to  giggles,  "but  I 
wasn't  joking,  honest  Indian  I  wasn't !  But  how  did  you 
come  to  strike  Granados?" 

"Me?  Well,  I  ranged  over  from  California  to  sell  a 
patch  of  ground  I  owned  in  Yuma.  Then  I  hiked  over 
to  Nogales  on  a  little  pasear  and  offered  to  pack  a  gun 
and  wear  a  uniform  for  this  Mexican  squabble,  and  the 
powers  that  be  turned  me  down  because  one  of  my  eyes 
could  see  farther  than  the  other  —  that's  no  joke  —  it's 
a  calamity !  I  spent  all  the  dincro  I  had  recovering  from 
the  shock,  and  about  the  time  I  was  getting  my  sympa 
thetic  friends  sobered  up,  Singleton,  of  Granados,  saw  us 
trying  out  some  raw  cavalry  stock,  and  bid  for  my  valu 
able  services  and  I  rode  over.  Any  other  little  detail 
you'd  like  to  know?" 

"N-no,  only  needed  to  know  it  wasn't  Conrad  the 
manager  hired  you,  and  I  asked  if  you  were  married  be 
cause  married  men  need  the  work  more  than  single  strays. 
Adolf  Conrad  got  rid  of  two  good  American  men  lately, 
and  fetches  over  Mexicans  from  away  down  Hermosillo 
way." 

" 'Cause  why?"  asked  the  man  who  had  ceased  pre 
tense  of  mending  the  saddle,  and  was  standing  with  back 
against  the  adobe. 


THE  GIRL  OF  THE  LARK  CALL  7 

"  'Cause  I  don't  know,'*  came  petulant  response.  "  I 
only  had  the  hunch  when  I  saw  you  tame  that  outlaw  in 
the  corral.  If  he  pulls  wires  to  lose  you,  I'll  stop  guess 
ing  ;  I'll  know ! " 

"Very  interesting,  sefiorita,"  agreed  the  stranger  re 
flectively.  "  But  if  I  have  a  good  job,  I  can't  see  how  it 
will  give  me  aid  or  comfort  to  know  that  you've  acquired 
knowledge,  and  stopped  guessing.  When's  your  time  up 
behind  the  bars?" 

"  Whenever  my  clothes  get  dry  enough  to  fool  the  dear 
home  folks." 

"You  must  be  a  joy  to  the  bosom  of  your  family," 
he  observed,  "also  a  blessing." 

He  heard  again  the  girlish  laughter  and  concluded  she 
could  not  be  over  sixteen.  There  was  silence  for  a  space 
while  only  the  creak  of  the  grindstone  cut  the  stillness. 
Whoever  she  was,  she  had  given  him  a  brief  illuminating 
vision  of  the  tactics  of  Conrad,  the  manager  for  the 
ranchos  of  Granados  and  La  Partida,  the  latter  being  the 
Sonora  end  of  the  old  Spanish  land  grant.  Even  a  girl 
had  noted  that  the  rough  work  had  been  turned  over  to 
a  new  American  from  the  first  circle  of  the  rodeo.  He 
stood  there  staring  out  across  the  sage  green  to  the  far 
purple  hills  of  the  Green  Springs  range. 

"You've  fixed  that  cinch,  what  you  waiting  for?" 
asked  the  voice  at  last,  and  the  young  fellow  straightened 
up  and  lifted  the  saddle. 

"  That's  so,"  he  acknowledged.  "  But  as  you  whistled 
to  me  and  the  call  seemed  friendly,  it  was  up  to  me  to 
halt  for  orders —  from  the  lady  in  distress." 

Again  he  heard  the  soft  laughter  and  the  voice. 


8  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

"Glad  you  liked  the  friendly  call,  Johnny  Reb,"  she 
confessed.  "That's  my  call.  If  ever  you  hear  it  where 
there  are  no  larks,  you'll  know  who  it  is." 

"  Sure,"  he  agreed,  yanking  at  the  cinch,  "  and  I'll  come 
a  lopin'  with  the  bonnie  blue  flag,  to  give  aid  and  succor 
to  the  enemy." 

"You  will  not!"  she  retorted.  "You'll  just  whistle 
back  friendly,  and  be  chums.  I  think  my  clothes  are  dry 
now,  and  you'd  better  travel.  If  you  meet  anyone  look 
ing  for  a  stray  maverick,  you  haven't  seen  me." 

"Just  as  you  say.     Adios!" 

After  he  had  mounted  and  passed  along  the  corral  to 
the  road,  he  turned  in  the  saddle  and  looked  back.  He 
could  see  no  one  in  the  \vindow  of  the  bars,  but  there  came 
to  him  clear  and  sweet  the  field  bugle  of  the  meadow 
lark. 

He  answered  it,  lifted  his  sombrero  and  rode  soberly 
towards  the  Granados  corrals,  three  miles  across  the 
valley.  Queer  little  trick  she  must  be.  American  girls 
did  not  usually  ride  abroad  alone  along  the  border,  and 
certainly  did  not  chum  with  the  Mexicans  to  the  extent 
of  borrowing  shirts.  Then  as  he  lifted  the  bridle  and 
Pardner  broke  into  a  lo.pe,  he  noted  an  elderly  horseman 
jogging  along  across  trail  on  a  little  mule.  Each  eyed 
the  other  appraisingly. 

"Hello,  Bub!"  hailed  the  older  man.  "My  name's 
Pike,  and  you're  the  new  man  from  California,  hey? 
Glad  to  meet  you.  Hear  your  name's  Rhodes." 

"  I  reckon  you  heard  right,"  agreed  the  young  chap. 
"K.  Rhodes  at  your  service,  sir." 

"Hello!  K?  K?    Does  that  K  stand  for  Kit?" 


THE  GIRL  OF  THE  LARK  CALL      9 

"  Center  shot  for  you/'  assented  the  other. 

"From  Tennessee?" 

"  Now  you're  a  sort  of  family  historian,  I  reckon,  Mr. 
Pike,"  suggested  K.  Rhodes.  "What's  the  excitement?" 

"Why  you  young  plantation  stray!"  and  the  older 
man  reached  for  his  hand  and  made  use  of  it  pump- 
handle  fashion  with  a  sort  of  sputtering  glee.  "Great 
guns,  boy!  there  was  just  one  K.  Rhodes  a-top  of  God's 
green  earth  and  we  were  pardners  here  in  Crook's  day. 
Hurrah  for  us !  Are  you  cousin,  son,  or  nephew  ?  " 

"My  grandfather  was  with  Crook." 

"  Sure !  I  knew  it  soon  as  I  laid  eyes  on  you  and  heard 
your  name ;  that  was  in  the  corral  with  the  outlaw  Con 
rad  had  driven  in  for  you  to  work,  it  wa'n't  a  square  deal 
to  a  white  man.  I  was  cussin'  mad." 

"So  I  heard,"  and  the  blue  eyes  of  the  other  smiled 
at  the  memory  of  the  girl's  glib  repetition  of  his  dis 
course.  "What's  the  great  idea?  Aside  from  the  fact 
that  he  belongs  to  the  white  dove,  anti-military  bunch 
of  sisters,  Singleton  seems  quite  white,  a  nice  chap." 

"  Yeh,  but  he's  noways  wise  at  that  He  sort  of  mar 
ried  into  the  horse  game  here,  wasn't  bred  to  it.  Just 
knows  enough  to  not  try  to  run  it  solo.  Now  this  Dolf 
Conrad  does  know  horses  and  the  horse  market,  and 
Granados  rancho.  He's  shipped  more  cavalry  stock  to 
France  than  any  other  outfit  in  this  region.  Yes,  Conrad 
knows  the  business  end  of  the  game,  but  even  at  that  he 
might  not  assay  as  high  grade  ore.  He  is  mixed  up  with 
them  too-proud-to-fight  clique  organized  by  old  maids  of 
both  sexes,  and  to  show  that  he  is  above  all  prejudice, 
political  or  otherwise,  he  sure  is  corraling  an  extra  lot 


10 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

of  Mex  help  this  year.  I've  companeros  I'd  go  through 
hell  for,  but  Conrad's  breed  —  well,  enough  said,  Bub, 
but  they're  different!"  Mr.  Pike  bit  off  a  chew  of  black 
plug,  and  shook  his  head  ruminatively. 

Rhodes  looked  the  old  man  over  as  they  rode  along 
side  by  side.  He  was  lean,  wiry  and  probably  sixty-five. 
His  hair,  worn  long,  gave  him  the  look  of  the  old-time 
ranger.  He  carried  no  reatck  and  did  not  look  like  a 
ranchman.  He  had  the  southern  intonation,  and  his  eyes 
were  wonderfully  young  for  the  almost  snowy  hair. 

"  Belong  in  the  valley,  Captain  ?  " 

"-Belong?  Me  belong  anywhere?  Not  yet,  son,"*  and 
he  smiled  at  his  own  fancy.  "  Not  but  what  it's  a  good 
enough  corner  when  a  man  reaches  the  settlin'  down  age. 
I  drift  back  every  so  often.  This  ranch  was  Fred  Ber 
nard's,  and  him  and  me  flocked  together  for  quite  a  spell. 
Singleton  married  Bernard's  widow — she's  dead  now 
these  seven  years.  I  just  drift  back  every  so  often  to  keep 
track  of  Bernard's  kid,  Billie." 

"  I  see.  Glad  to  have  met  you,  Captain.  Hope  we  can 
ride  together  often  enough  for  me  to  hear  about  the  old 
Apache  days.  This  land  has  fetched  out  three  genera 
tions  of  us,  so  it  surely  has  some  pull !  My  father  came 
at  the  end  of  his  race,  but  I've  come  in  time  to  grow  up 
with  the  country." 

Captain  Pike  looked  at  him  and  chuckled.  K.  Rhodes 
was  about  twenty-three,  tall,  almost  boyish  in  figure,  but 
his  shoulders  and  hands  suggested  strength,  and  his  mouth 
had  little  dents  of  humor  at  the  corners  to  mitigate  the 
squareness  of  jaw  and  the  heavy  dark  brows.  His  black 
lashes  made  the  deep  blue  of  his  eyes  look  purple.  Young 


THE  GIRL  OF  THE  LARK  CALL  11 

he  was,  but  with  a  stature  and  self-reliant  manner  as  wit 
ness  of  the  fact  that  he  was  fairly  grown  up  already. 

"Where'd  you  learn  horses,  Bub?" 

:t  Tennessee  stock  farm,  and  southern  California 
ranges.  Then  this  neck  of  the  woods  seemed  calling  me, 
and  I  trailed  over  to  look  after  a  bit  of  land  in  Yuma. 
I  wasted  some  time  trying  to  break  into  the  army,  but  they 
found  some  eye  defect  that  I  don't  know  anything  about 
—  and  don't  more  than  half  believe!  I  had  some  dandy 
prospecting  plans  after  that,  but  there  was  no  jingling  in 
my  pockets  —  no  outfit  money,  so  I  hailed  Singleton  as  an 
angel  monoplaned  down  with  the  ducats.  Yes  sir,  I  had 
all  the  dream  survey  made  for  a  try  at  some  gold  trails 
down  here,  going  to  take  it  up  where  the  rest  of  the 
family  quit." 

"  You  mean  that,  boy  ? "  The  old  man  halted  his  mule, 
and  spat  out  the  tobacco,  staring  at  Rhodes  in  eager 
anticipation. 

"  I  sure  do.  Reckon  I've  inherited  the  fever,  and  can't 
settle  down  to  any  other  thing  until  I've  had  one  try  at  it. 
Did  do  a  little  placer  working  in  the  San  Jacinto." 

"And  you're  broke?"  Mr.  Pike's  voice  betrayed  a 
keen  joy  in  the  prospect. 

"Flat,"  stated  K.  Rhodes,  eyeing  the  old  gentleman 
suspiciously,  "  my  horse,  saddle,  field  glass,  and  gun  are 
the  only  belongings  in  sight." 

"Ki-yi!"  chirruped  his  new  acquaintance  gleefully, 
"I  knew  when  I  got  out  of  the  blankets  this  morning  I 
was  to  have  good  luck  of  some  sort,  had  a  *  hunch.'  You 
can  bet  on  me,  Bub ;  you've  struck  the  right  rail,  and  I'm 
your  friend,  your  desert  companero!" 


12 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

"Yes,  you  sound  real  nice  and  friendly/*  agreed  K. 
Rhodes.  "So  glad  I'm  flat  broke  that  you're  having 
hysterics  over  it.  Typical  southern  hospitality.  Hearty 
welcome  to  our  city,  and  so  forth,  and  so  forth ! " 

The  old  man  grinned  at  him  appreciatively.  "Lord 
boy !  —  I  reckon  I've  been  waiting  around  for  you  about 
ten  year,  though  I  didn't  know  what  your  name  would 
be  when  you  come,  and  it  couldn't  be  a  better  one !  We'll 
outfit  first  for  the  Three  Hills  of  Gold  in  the  desert,  and 
if  luck  is  against  us  there  we'll  strike  down  into  Sonora 
to  have  a  try  after  the  red  gold  of  El  Alisal.  I've  covered 
some  of  that  ground,  but  never  had  a  pardner  who  would 
stick.  They'd  beat  it  because  of  either  the  Mexicans  or 
the  Indians,  but  you — say  boy!  It's  the  greatest  game 
in  the  world  and  we'll  go  to  it! " 

His  young  eyes  sparkled  in.  his  weathered  desert  face, 
and  more  than  ten  years  were  cast  aside  in  his  enthusiasm. 
K.  Rhodes  looked  at  him  askance. 

"If  I  did  not  have  a  key  to  your  sane  and  calm  out 
lining  of  prospects  for  the  future,  I  might  suspect  loco 
weed  or  some  other  dope,"  he  observed.  "  But  the  fact 
is  you  must  have  known  that  my  grandfather  in  his  day 
went  on  the  trail  of  the  Three  Hills  of  Gold,  and  left 
about  a  dozen  different  plans  on  paper  for  future  trips." 

"Know  it?  Why  boy,  I  went  in  with  him!"  shrilled 
Captain  Pike.  "Know  it?  Why,  we  crawled  out  half 
starved,  and  dried  out  as  a  couple  of  last  year's  gourds. 
We  dug  roots  and  were  chewing  our  own  boot  tops  when 
the  Indians  found  us.  Sure,  I  know  it.  He  went  East  to 
raise  money  for  a  bigger  outfit,  but  never  got  back — 
died  there." 


THE  GIRL  OF  THE  LARK  CALL  13 

"Yes,  then  my  father  gathered  up  all  the  plans  and 
specifications  and  came  out  with  a  friend  about  fifteen 
years  ago,"  added  Rhodes.  "  They  never  got  anywhere, 
but  he  sort  of  worked  the  fever  off,  bought  some  land 
and  hit  the  trail  back  home.  So  I've  been  fairly  well  fed 
up  on  your  sort  of  dope,  Captain,  and  when  I've  mended 
that  gone  feeling  in  my  pocketbook  I  may  '  call '  you  on 
the  gold  trail  proposition.  Even  if  you're  bluffing  there'll 
be  no  come  back;  I  can  listen  to  a  lot  of  'lost  mine' 
vagaries.  It  sounds  like  home  sweet  home  to  me ! " 

"  Bluff  nothing !  we'll  start  next  week." 

"  No  we  won't,  I've  got  a  job  and  made  a  promise, 
got  to  help  clean  up  the  work  here  for  the  winter.  Prom 
ised  to  take  the  next  load  of  horses  East." 

"  That's  a  new  one,"  observed  his  new  friend.  "  Con 
rad  himself  has  always  gone  East  with  the  horses,  or  sent 
Brehmen,  his  secretary.  But  never  mind,  Bub,  the  eastern 
trip  won't  take  long.  I'll  be  devilin'  around  getting  our 
outfit  and  when  the  chance  comes  —  us  for  the  Three 
Hills  of  Gold ! " 

"It  listens  well,"  agreed  K.  Rhodes,  "cheeriest  little 
pasear  I've  struck  in  the  county.  We'll  have  some  great 
old  powwows,  even  if  we  don't  make  a  cent,  and  some 
day  you'll  tell  me  about  the  mental  kinks  in  the  make 
up  of  our  Prussian  friend,  Conrad.  He  sounds  interest 
ing  to  me." 

Captain  Pike  uttered  a  profane  and  lurid  word  or  two 
concerning  Mr.  Conrad,  and  stated  he'd  be  glad  when 
Billie  was  of  age.  Singleton,  and  therefore  Conrad, 
would  only  have  the  management  up  to  that  time.  Billie 
would  know  horses  if  nothing  else,  and —  Then  he  in- 


14 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

terrupted  himself  and  stared  back  the  way  he  had  come. 

"  I'm  a  forgetful  old  fool ! "  he  stated  with  conviction. 
"I  meandered  out  to  take  a  look  around  for  her,  and  I 
didn't  like  the  looks  of  that  little  dab  of  a  saddle  Conrad 
had  put  on  Pat  You  didn't  see  anything  of  her,  did 
you?" 

"  What  does  she  look  like  ?" 

"A  slip  of  a  girl  who  rides  like  an  Indian,  rides  a 
black  horse." 

"  No,  I've  seen  no  one,"  said  the  young  chap  truthfully 
enough.  "  But  who  did  you  say  your  girl  was  ?" 

"You'll  find  put  if  you  hold  your  job  long  enough  for 
her  to  be  of  age,"  said  Pike  darkly.  "She'll  be  your 
boss  instead  of  Conrad.  It's  Billie  Bernard,  the  owner  of 
Granados  and  La  Partida." 

"Billie?" 

"  Miss  Wilfreda,  if  you  like  it  better." 

But  K.  Rhodes  said  he  didn't.  Billie  seemed  to  fit  the 
sort  of  girl  who  would  garb  herself  in  Pedro's  shirt  and 
whistle  at  him  through  the  bars  of  the  little  window. 


CHAPTER  II 

THE   RED    GOLD    LEGEND 

IT  TOOK  less  than  a  week  for  Kit  Rhodes  to  conclude 
that  the  girl  behind  the  bars  had  a  true  inspiration 
regarding  his  own  position  on  her  ranches.  There  was 
no  open  hostility  to  him,  yet  it  was  evident  that  difficulties 
were  cleverly  put  in  his  way. 

Not  by  Philip  Singleton,  the  colorless,  kindly  disposed 
gentleman  of  Pike's  description.  But  by  various  in 
tangible  methods,  he  was  made  to  feel  an  outsider  by  the 
manager,  Conrad,  and  his  more  confidential  Mexican  as 
sistants.  They  were  punctiliously  polite,  too  polite  for  a 
horse-ranch  outfit.  Yet  again  and  again  a  group  of  them 
fell  silent  when  he  joined  them,  and  as  his  work  was 
with  the  horse  herds  of  La  Partida,  that  part  of  the  great 
grant  which  spread  over  the  border  into  Sonora,  he  was 
often  camped  fifty  miles  south  of  the  hacienda  of  Gra- 
nados,  and  saw  no  more  of  either  the  old  prospector,  or  the 
tantalizing  girl  of  the  voice  and  the  whistle. 

Conrad,  however,  motored  down  two  or  three  times 
concerning  horses  for  eastern  shipment,  but  Rhodes,  the 
new  range  capitan,  puzzled  considerably  over  those  flying 
visits,  for,  after  the  long  drive  through  sand  and  alkali, 
the  attention  he  gave  either  herds  or  outfit  was  negligible. 
In  fact  he  scarcely  touched  at  the  camp,  yet  always  did 

15 


16  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

some  trifling  official  act  coming  or  going  to  make  record 
that  he  had  been  there. 

The  Mexicans  called  him  El  Aoura,  the  buzzard,  be 
cause  no  man  could  tell  when  he  would  swoop  over  even 
the  farthest  range  of  La  Partida  to  catch  them  napping. 
Yet  there  was  some  sort  of  curious  bond  between  them 
for  there  were  times  when  Conrad  came  north  as  from 
a  long  southern  trail,  yet  the  Mexicans  were  as  dumb 
men  if  it  was  referred  to. 

He  was  a  compactly  built,  fair  man  of  less  than  forty, 
with  thin  reddish  brown  hair,  brows  slanting  downward 
from  the  base  of  the  nose,  and  a  profile  of  that  curious 
Teuton  type  reminiscent  of  a  supercilious  hound  if  one 
could  imagine  such  an  animal  with  milk-blue  eyes  and 
a  yellow  mustache  with  spiky  turned-up  ends. 

But  Rhodes  did  not  permit  any  antipathy  he  might  feel 
towards  the  man  to  interfere  with  his  own  duties,  and 
he  went  stolidly  about  the  range  work  as  if  m  utter  for- 
getfulness  of  the  dark  prophecy  of  the  girl. 

If  he  was  to  lose  his  new  job  he  did  not  mean  that  it 
should  be  from  inattention,  and  nothing  was  too  trifling 
for  his  notice.  He  would  do  the  work  of  a  range  boss 
twelve  hours  out  of  the  day,  and  then  put  in  extra  time 
on  a  night  ride  to  the  cantina  at  the  south  wells  of  La 
Partida. 

But  as  the  work  moved  north  and  the  consignment  of 
horses  for  France  made  practically  complete,  old  Cap  Pike 
rode  down  to  Granados  corrals,  and  after  contemplation 
of  the  various  activities  of  Rhodes,  climbed  up  on  the 
corral  fence  beside  him,  where  the  latter  was  checking 
off  the  accepted  animals. 


THE  RED  GOLD  LEGEND  17 

"You're  a  cheerful  idiot  for  work,  Bub,"  agreed  the 
old  man,  "but  what  the  devil  do  you  gain  by  doing  so 
much  of  the  other  fellow's  job?  Pancho  Martinez  wasn't 
sick  as  he  played  off  on  you ;  you're  green  to  these  Mexi 
can  tricks." 

"  Sure,  I'm  the  original  Green  from  Greenburg,"  as 
sented  his  new  companero.  "  Pancho  was  only  more  than 
usually  drunk  last  night,  while  I  was  fresh  as  a  daisy  and 
eager  to  enlarge  my  geographic  knowledge,  also  my  lin 
guistics,  Hi !  Pedro !  not  the  sorrel  mare !  Cut  her  out! " 

"Linguistics?"  repeated  Pike  impatiently. 
'  Yeh,  nice  little  woman  in  the  cantina  at  La  Partida 
wells.  I  am  a  willing  pupil  at  Spanish  love  songs,  and  we 
get  along  fine.  I  am  already  a  howling  success  at  La 
Paloma,  La  Golondrina,  and  a  few  other  sentimental 
birds." 

"  Oh,  you  are,  are  you  ?  "  queried  Pike.  "  Well,  take 
a  warning.  You'll  get  a  knife  in  your  back  from  her 
man  one  of  these  fine  nights,  and  the  song  will  be  Adios, 
adios  amores  for  you!" 

"  Nothing  doing,  Cap !  We  play  malilla  for  the  drinks, 
and  I  work  it  so  that  he  beats  me  two  out  of  three.  I'm 
so  easy  I'm  not  worth  watching.  Women  don't  fancy 
fools,  so  I'm  safe." 

"  Well,  I'll  be  '  strafed '  by  the  Dutch !  "  Pike  stared  at 
the  young  fellow,  frowning  in  perplexity.  uYou  sure 
have  me  puzzled,  Bub.  Are  you  a  hopeless  dunce  by 
training  or  nature?" 

"Natural  product,"  grinned  K.  Rhodes  cheerfully. 
"  Beauty  unadorned.  Say  Cap,  tell  me  something.  What 
is  the  attraction  for  friend  Conrad  south  of  La  Partida? 


18 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

I  seem  to  run  against  a  stone  wall  when  I  try  to  feel  out 
the  natives  on  that  point.  Now  just  what  lies  south,  and 
whose  territory?" 

The  old  man  looked  at  him  with  a  new  keenness. 

"For  your  sort  of  an  idiot  you've  blundered  on  a  big 
interrogation  point,"  he  observed.  "Did  you  meet  him 
down  there?" 

"  No,  only  heard  his  voice  in  the  night.  It's  not  very 
easy  to  mistake  that  velvety  blood-puddin'  voice  of  his, 
and  a  team  went  down  to  meet  him.  He  seems  to  go 
down  by  another  route,  railroad  I  reckon,  and  comes  in 
by  the  south  ranch.  Now  just  what  is  south?  " 

"The  ranches  of  Soledad  grant  join  La  Partida,  or 
aim  to.  There  are  no  maps,  and  no  one  here  knows 
how  far  down  over  the  border  the  Partida  leagues  do 
reach.  Soledad  was  an  old  mission  site,  and  a  fortified 
hacienda  back  in  the  days  of  Juarez.  Its  owner  was  con 
victed  of  treason  during  Diaz'  reign,  executed,  and  the 
ranches  confiscated.  It  is  now  in  the  hands  of  a  Federal 
politician  who  is  safer  in  Hermosillo.  The  revolutionists 
are  thick  even  among4  the  pacificos  up  here,  but  the 
Federals  have  the  most  ammunition,  and  the  gods  of  war 
are  with  the  guns." 

"  Sure ;  and  who  is  the  Federal  politician  ?  No,  not 
that  colt,  Marcito ! " 

"  Perez,  Don  Jose  Perez,"  stated  Pike,  giving  no  heed 
to  corral  interpolations.  "He  claims  more  leagues  than 
have  ever  been  reckoned  or  surveyed,  took  in  several 
Indian  rancherias  last  year  when  the  natives  were 
rounded  up  and  shipped  to  Yucatan." 

"What?" 


THE  RED  GOLD  LEGEND  19 

"  Oh,  he  is  in  that  slave  trade  good  and  plenty !  They 
say  he  is  sore  on  the  Yaquis  because  he  lost  a  lot  of 
money  on  a  boat  load  that  committed  suicide  as  they 
were  sailing  from  Guaymas." 

"A  boat  load  of  suicides!  Now  a  couple  of  dozen 
would  sound  reasonable,  but  a  boat  load " 

"  But  it  happened  to  every  Indian  on  the  boat,  and  the 
boat  was  full!  No  one  knows  how  the  poor  devils  de 
cided  it,  but  it  was  their  only  escape  from  slavery,  and 
they  went  over  the  side  like  a  school  of  fish.  Men, 
women,  and  children  from  the  desert  who  couldn't  swim 
a  stroke !  Talk  about  nerve  —  there  wasn't  one  weakling 
in  that  whole  outfit,  not  one!  Perez  was  wild.  It  lost 
him  sixty  dollars  a  head,  American." 

"And  that's  the  neighbor  friend  Conrad  takes  a  run 
down  south  to  see  occasionally?" 

"Who  says  so,  Bub?" 

The  two  looked  at  each  other,  eyes  questioning. 

"Look  here,  son,"  said  Pike,  after  a  little,  "  I'll  hit  any 
trail  with  you  barring  Mexican  politics.  They  all  sell 
each  other  out  as  regular  as  the  seasons  swing  around, 
and  the  man  north  of  the  line  who  gets  tangled  is  sure 
to  be  victim  if  he  stays  in  long  enough." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know !  We  have  a  statesman  or  two  who 
flirted  with  Sonora  and  came  out  ahead." 

"  I  said  if  he  stayed  in,"  reminded  Pike.  "  Sure  we 
have  crooks  galore  who  drift  across,  play  a  cut-throat 
game  and  skip  back  to  cover.  The  border  is  lined  with 
them  on  both  sides.  And  Conrad " 

"But  Conrad  isn't  in  politics." 

"N-no.      There's    no   evidence   that   he   is,    but   his 


20  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

Mexican  friends  are.  There  are  men  on  the  Granados 
now  who  used  to  be  down  on  Soledad,  and  they  are  the 
men  who  make  the  trips  with  him  to  the  lower  ranch." 

"  Tomas  Herrara  and  Chico  Domingo  ?  " 

"I  reckon  you've  sized  them  up,  but  remember,  Kit, 
I  don't  cross  over  with  you  for  any  political  game,  and 
I  don't  know  a  thing!" 

"All  right,  Captain,  but  don't  raise  too  loud  a  howl  if 
I  fancy  a  pasear  occasionally  to  improve  my  Spanish." 

The  old  man  grumbled  direful  and  profane  prophecies 
as  to  things  likely, to  happen  to  students  of  Spanish  love 
songs  in  Sonora,  and  then  sat  with  his  head  on  one  side 
studying  Kit  ruminatively  as  he  made  his  notes  of  the 
selected  stock. 

"Ye  know  Bub,  it  mightn't  be  so  bad  at  that,  if  you 
called  a  halt  in  time,  for  one  of  the  lost  mine  trails  calls 
for  Spanish  and  plenty  of  it.  I've  got  a  working  knowl 
edge,  but  the  farther  you  travel  into  Sonora  the  less 
American  you  will  hear,  and  that  lost  mine  of  the  old 
padres  is  down  there  along  the  ranges  of  Soledad  some 
where." 

"Which  one  of  the  fifty-seven  varieties  have  you 
elected  to  uncover  first  ?  "  queried  Rhodes.  "  The  last 
time  you  were  confidential  about  mines  I  thought  the 
'Three  Hills  of  Gold'  were  mentioned  by  you." 

"  Sure  it  was,  but  since  you  are  on  the  Sonora  end  of 
the  ranch,  and  since  you  are  picking  up  your  ears  to  learn 
Sonoran  trails,  it  might  be  a  good  time  to  follow  your 
luck.  Say,  I'll  bet  that  every  herder  who  drifts  into  the 
cantina  at  La  Partida  has  heard  of  the  red  gold  of  El 
Ali sal.  The  Yaquis  used  to  know  where  it  was  before 


THE  RED  GOLD  LEGEND 21 

so  many  of  them  were  killed  off;  reckon  it's  lost  good 
and  plenty  now,  but  nothing  is  hid  forever  and  it's  wait 
ing  there  for  some  man  with  the  luck." 

"  We're  willing,"  grinned  Kit.  "  You  are  a  great  little 
old  dreamer,  Captain.  And  there  is  a  fair  chance  I  may 
range  down  there.  I  met  a  chap  named  Whitely  from 
over  toward  the  Painted  Hills  north  of  Altar.  Ranch 
manager,  sort  of  friendly." 

"  Sure,  Tom  Whitely  has  some  stock  in  a  ranch  over 
there  —  the  Mesa  Blanca  ranch  —  it  joins  Soledad  on  the 
west.  I've  always  aimed  to  range  that  way,  but  the  lost 
mine  is  closer  than  the  eastern  sierras  —  must  be!  The 
trail  of  the  early  padres  was  farther  east,  and  the  mine 
could  not  well  be  far  from  the  trail,  not  more  than  a  day's 
journey  by  mule  or  burro,  and  that's  about  twenty  miles. 
You  see  Bub,  it  was  found  by  a  padre  who  wandered 
off  the  trail  on  the  way  to  a  little  branch  mission,  or 
visita,  as  they  call  it,  and  it  was  where  trees  grew,  for  a 
big  alisal  tree  —  sycamore  you  know  —  was  near  the  out 
crop  of  that  red  gold.  Well,  that  visita  was  where  the 
padres  only  visited  the  heathen  for  baptism  and  such 
things;  no  church  was  built  there!  That's  what  tangles 
the  trail  for  anyone  trying  to  find  traces  after  a  hundred 
years." 

"I  reckon  it  would,"  agreed  Rhodes.  "Think  what 
a  hundred  years  of  cactus,  sand,  and  occasional  temblors 
can  do  to  a  desert,  to  say  nothing  of  the  playful  zephyrs. 
Why,  Cap,  the  winds  could  lift  a  good-sized  range  of 
hills  and  fill  the  baby  rivers  with  it  in  that  time,  for  the 
winds  of  the  desert  have  a  way  with  them ! " 

A  boy  rode  out  of  the  whirls  of  dust,  and  climbed  up 


22  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

on  the  corral  fence  where  Rhodes  was  finishing  tally  of 
the  horses  selected  for  shipment.  He  was  the  slender, 
handsome  son  of  Tomas  Herrara  of  whom  they  had  been 
speaking. 

"  It  is  a  letter,"  he  said,  taking  a  folded  paper  from  his 
hat.  "The  Senor  Conrad  is  having  the  telegraph,  and 
the  cars  are  to  be  ready  for  Granados." 

"Right  you  are,  Juanito,"  agreed  Rhodes.  "Tell 
Senor  Conrad  I  will  reach  Granados  for  supper,  and 
that  all  the  stock  is  in." 

The  lad  whirled  away  again,  riding  joyously  north,  and 
Rhodes,  after  giving  final  directions  to  the  vaqueros, 
turned  his  roan  in  the  same  direction. 

"  Can't  ride  back  with  you,  Cap,  for  I'm  taking  a  little 
pasear  around  past  Herrara's  rancheria.  I  want  to  take 
a  look  at  that  bunch  of  colts  and  size  up  the  water  there. 
I've  a  hunch  they  had  better  be  headed  up  the  other  valley 
to  the  Green  Springs  tank  till  rains  come." 

Captain  Pike  jogged  off  alone  after  some  audible  and 
highly  colored  remarks  concerning  range  bosses  who 
assumed  the  power  of  the  Almighty  to  be  everywhere  the 
same  day.  Yet  as  he  watched  the  younger  man  disappear 
over  the  gray-green  range  he  smiled  tolerantly  for,  after 
all,  that  sort  of  a  hustler  was  the  right  sort  of  partner 
for  a  prospecting  trip. 

The  late  afternoon  was  a  golden  haze  under  a  metal 
blue  sky;  afar  to  the  east,  sharp  edges  of  the  mountains 
cut  purple  zig-zags  into  the  salmon  pink  of  the  horizon. 
The  rolling  waves  of  the  ranges  were  bathed  in  a  sea  of 
rest,  and  now  and  then  a  bird  on  the  mesquite  along  an 
arroya,  or  resting  on  branch  of  flaring  occotilla  would 


THE  RED  GOLD  LEGEND 


give  out  the  foreboding  call  of  the  long  shadows,  for  the 
heart  of  the  day  had  come  and  gone,  and  the  cooler 
air  was  waking  the  hidden  things  from  siesta. 

Kit  Rhodes  kept  the  roan  at  a  steady  lope  along 
the  cattle  trail,  drinking  in  the  refreshing  sweetness  of 
the  lonely  ranges  after  hours  of  dust  and  heat  and  the 
trampling  horse  herds  of  the  corrals.  Occasionally  he 
broke  into  songs  of  the  ranges,  love  songs,  death  laments, 
and  curious  sentimental  ditties  of  love  and  wars  of  old 
England  as  still  crooned  in  the  cabins  of  southern  moun 
tains. 

/  had  not  long  been  married, 

A  happy,  happy  bride! 
When  a  handsome  trooper  captain 

Stepped  up  to  our  bedside, 
"Rise  up!  rise  up!  young  man,"  he  said, 

And  go  along  with  me, 
In  the  low,  low  lands  of  Holland 

To.,  fight  for  liberty. 

The  ancient  song  of  the  sad  bride  whose  lover  proved 
false  in  the  "low,  low  lands  of  Holland"  trailed  lugu 
briously  along  the  arroya  in  a  totally  irrelevant  way,  for 
the  singer  was  not  at  all  sad.  He  was  gaily  alert,  keen- 
eyed  and  watchful,  keeping  time  to  the  long  lope  with 
that  dubious  versification. 

"  And  they're  at  it  again  pretty  close  to  the  '  low,  low 
lands  of  Holland/  Pardner,"  he  confided  to  the  horse. 
"  And  when  you  and  I  make  a  stake  you'll  go  on  pasture, 
and  I'll  hit  the  breeze  for  Canada  or  some  other  seaport, 


24  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

and  get  one  whack  at  the  Boche  brown  rat  on  my  own  i  f 
official  America  is  too  proud  to  fight,  for 

Oh-h!  oh-h!     Oh-h! 

In  the  low,  low  lands  of  Holland, 

My  love  was  false  to  me!" 

Then,  after  long  stretches  of  sand  dunes,  mesquite 
thickets,  occasional  wide  canons  where  zacatan  meadows 
rippled  like  waves  of  the  sea  in  the  desert  air,  he  swung 
his  horse  around  a  low  hill  and  came  in  sight  of  the  little 
adobe  of  Herrara,  a  place  of  straggly  enclosures  of  stakes 
and  wattles,  with  the  corral  at  the  back. 

Another  rider  came  over  the  hill  beyond  the  corral,  on 
a  black  horse  skimming  the  earth.  Rhodes  stared  and 
whistled  softly  as  the  black  without  swrerving  planted  its 
feet  and  slid  down  the  declivity  by  the  water  tank,  and 
then,  jumping  the  fence  below,  sped  to  the  little  ramada 
before  the  adobe  where  its  rider  slid  to  the  ground  amid 
a  deal  of  barking  of  dogs  and  scattering  of  children. 

And  although  Kit  had  never  seen  the  rider  before,  he 
had  no  difficulty  as  to  recognition,  and  on  a  sudden  im 
pulse  he  whistled  the  meadow-lark  call  loudly  enough  to 
reach  her  ears. 

She  halted  at  the  door,  a  bundle  in  her  hand,  and  sur 
veyed  the  landscape,  but  failed  to  see  him  because  he  at 
that  moment  was  back  of  a  clump  of  towering  prickly 
pear.  And  she  passed  on  into  the  shadows  of  the  adobe. 

"That's  the  disadvantage  of  being  too  perfect,  Pard- 
ner,"  he  confided  to  the  roan,  "  she  thinks  we  are  a  pair 
of  birds." 


THE  RED  GOLD  LEGEND  25 

He  turned  at  the  corner  of  the  corral  and  rode  around 
it  which  took  him  back  of  the  house  and  out  of  range 
from  the  door,  but  the  dogs  set  up  a  ki-yi-ing,  and  a  flock 
of  youngsters  scuttled  to  the  corner  of  the  adobe,  and 
stared  as  children  of  the  far  ranges  are  prone  to  stare  at 
the  passing  of  a  traveler  from  the  longed-for  highways 
of  the  world. 

The  barking  of  the  dogs  and  scampering  of  the  children 
evidently  got  on  the  nerves  of  the  black  horse  left  stand 
ing  at  the  vine-covered  ramada,  for  after  a  puppy  had 
barked  joyously  at  his  heels  he  leaped  aside,  and  once 
turned  around  kept  on  going,  trotting  around  the  corral 
after  the  roan. 

Rhodes  saw  it  but  continued  on  his  way,  knowing  he 
could  pick  it  up  on  his  return,  as  the  Ojo  Verde  tank  was 
less  than  a  mile  away.  A  boy  under  the  ramada  gave  one 
quick  look  and  then  fled,  a  flash  of  brown  and  a  red 
flapping  end  of  a  sash,  up  the  cafioncita  where  the  home 
spring  was  shadowed  by  a  large  mesquite  tree. 

At  first  Rhodes  turned  in  the  saddle  with  the  idea  of 
assisting  in  the  catching  of  the  black  if  that  was  the  thing 
desired,  but  it  evidently  was  not. 

"  Now  what  has  that  muchacho  on  his  mind  that  he 
makes  that  sort  of  get-away  after  nothing  and  no  pur 
suer  in  sight?  Pardner,  I  reckon  we'll  squander  a  valu 
able  minute  or  two  and  gather  in  that  black." 

He  galloped  back,  caught  the  wanderer  but  kept  right 
on  without  pause  to  the  trickle  of  water  under  the  flat 
wide-spreading  tree  —  it  was  a  solitaire,  being  king  of 
its  own  domain  and  the  only  shade,  except  the  vine-cov 
ered  ramada,  for  a  mile. 


26 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

The  startled  boy  made  a  movement  as  if  to  run  again 
as  Kit  rode  up,  then  halted,  fear  and  fateful  resignation 
changing  the  childish  face  to  sullenness. 

"Buenos  tardes,  Narcisco." 

"Buenos  tardes,  senor,"  gulped  the  boy. 

"I  turned  back  to  catch  the  horse  of  the  senorita  for 
you/'  observed  Rhodes.  "  It  is  best  you  tie  him  when  you 
lead  him  back,  but  first  give  him  water.  Thirst  is  perhaps 
the  cause  he  is  restless." 

"Yes  senor,"  agreed  the  lad.  "At  once  I  will  do 
that."  But  he  held  the  horse  and  did  not  move  from  his 
tracks,  and  then  Rhodes  noticed  that  on  the  flat  rock 
behind  him  was  a  grain  sack  thrown  over  something,  a 
brown  bottle  had  rolled  a  little  below  it,  and  the  end  of 
a  hammer  protruded  from  under  the  sacking. 

Ordinarily  Rhodes  would  have  given  no  heed  to  any 
simple  ranch  utensils  gathered  under  the  shadow  where 
work  was  more  endurable,  but  the  fear  in  the  face  of  the 
boy  fascinated  him. 

"  Think  I'll  give  Pardner  a  drink  while  I  am  about  it," 
he  decided,  and  dismounted  carelessly.  "Got  a  cup  that 
I  can  take  my  share  first  ?  " 

Narcisco  had  no  cup,  only  shook  his  head  and  swal 
lowed  as  if  the  attempt  at  words  was  beyond  him. 

"Well,  there  is  a  bottle  if  it  is  clean,"  and  Rhodes 
strode  awkwardly  towards  it,  but  his  spur  caught  in  the 
loose  mesh  of  the  sacking,  and  in  loosening  it  he  twisted 
it  off  the  rock. 

Narcisco  gasped  audibly,  and  Rhodes  laughed.  He  had 
uncovered  a  couple  of  dozen  empty  whiskey  bottles,  and 
a  tin  pan  with  some  broken  glass. 


THE  RED  GOLD  LEGEND  27 

"  What  you  trying  to  start  up  here  in  the  canon, 
Buddy?"  he  asked.  "Playing  saloon-keeper  with  only 
the  gophers  for  customers  ?  " 

He  selected  a  corked  bottle  evidently  clean,  rinsed  and 
drank  from  it. 

"Yes  —  senor — I  am  here  playing — that  is  all,"  af 
firmed  Narcisco.  "  At  the  house  Tia  Mariana  puts  us  out 
because  there  is  a  new  nmo  —  my  mother  and  the  new 
one  sleep  —  and  there  is  no  place  to  make  a  noise." 

"Oh,"  commented  Rhodes,  "well,  let  the  black  have 
a  little  water,  and  lead  him  out  of  the  way  of  mine.  This 
gully  isn't  wide  enough  to  turn  around  in." 

Obediently  the  boy  led  the  black  to  the  sunken  barrel 
catching  seepage  from  the  barrel  under  the  drip.  Rhodes 
tossed  the  sack  back  to  the  flat  rock  and  noted  an  old 
canvas  water  bottle  beside  the  heap,  it  was  half  full  of 
something — not  water,  for  it  was  uncorked  and  the 
mouth  of  it  a-glitter  with  shimmering  particles  like  dia 
mond  dust,  and  the  same  powder  was  over  a  white  spot 
on  the  rock  —  the  lad  evidently  was  playing  miller  and 
pounding  broken  glass  into  a  semblance  of  meal. 

"Funny  stunt,  that!"  he  pondered,  and,  smiling, 
watched  the  frightened  boy.  "  Herrara  certainly  is  doing 
a  bit  of  collecting  vino  to  have  a  stock  of  bottles  that 
size,  and  the  poor  kid's  nothing  else  to  play  with." 

He  mounted  and  rode  on,  leaving  Narcisco  to  lead  the 
black  to  his  mistress.  He  could  not  get  out  of  his  mind 
the  fright  in  the  eyes  of  the  boy.  Was  Herrara  a  brute 
to  his  family,  and  had  Narcisco  taken  to  flight  to  hide 
his  simple  playthings  under  the  mistaken  idea  that  the 
horseman  was  his  father  returned  early  from  the  ranges  ? 


28 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

That  was  the  only  solution  Rhodes  could  find  to  the 
problem,  though  he  milled  it  around  in  his  mind  quite 
a  bit.  Unless  the  boy  was  curiously  weak-minded  and 
frightened  at  the  face  of  a  stranger  it  was  the  only  ex 
planation  he  could  find,  yet  the  boys  of  Herrara  had 
always  struck  him  as  rather  bright.  In  fact  Conrad  had 
promoted  Juanito  to  the  position  of  special  messenger; 
he  could  ride  like  the  wind  and  never  forget  a  word. 

The  shadows  lengthened  as  he  circled  the  little  canon 
of  the  Ojo  Verde  and  noted  the  water  dripping  from  the 
full  tanks,  ideal  for  the  colt  range  for  three  months.  He 
took  note  that  Herrara  was  not  neglecting  anything, 
despite  that  collection  of  bottles.  There  was  no  wastage 
and  the  pipes  connecting  the  tanks  were  in  good  condition. 

He  rode  back,  care  free  and  content,  through  the  fra 
grant  valley.  The  cool  air  was  following  the  lowering 
sun,  and  a  thin  mauve  veil  was  drifting  along  the  hills 
of  mystery  in  the  south;  he  sang  as  he  rode  and  then 
checked  the  song  to  listen  to  the  flutelike  call  of  a  lark. 
His  lips  curved  in  a  smile  as  he  heard  it,  and  with  it  came 
the  thought  of  the  girl  and  the  barred  window  of  Vijil's 
adobe. 

She  permeated  the  life  of  Granados  just  as  the  soft  veil 
enwrapped  the  far  hills,  and  she  had  seemed  almost  as 
far  away  if  not  so  mysterious.  Not  once  had  he  crossed 
her  trail,  and  he  heard  she  was  no  longer  permitted  to 
ride  south  of  the  line.  The  vaqueros  commented  on  this 
variously  according  to  their  own  point  of  view.  Some 
of  the  Mexicans  resented  it,  and  in  one  way  or  another 
her  name  was  mentioned  whenever  problems  of  the  future 
were  discussed.  Singleton  was  regarded  as  temporary, 


THE  RED  GOLD  LEGEND  29 

and  Conrad  was  a  salaried  business  manager.  But  on  a 
day  to  come,  the  seiiorita,  as  her  mother's  daughter,  would 
be  their  mistress,  and  the  older  men  with  families  showed 
content  at  the  thought. 

Rhodes  never  could  think  of  her  as  the  chatelaine  of 
those  wide  ranges.  She  was  to  him  the  "  meadow-lark 
child  "  of  jests  and  laughter,  heard  and  remembered  but 
not  seen.  She  was  the  haunting  music  of  youth  meeting 
him  at  the  gateway  of  a  new  land  which  is  yet  so  old ! 

Some  such  vagrant  thought  drifted  through  his  mind 
as  the  sweet  calls  of  the  drowsy  birds  cut  the  warm 
silence,  now  from  some  graceful  palo  verde  along  a  bar 
ranca  and  again  from  the  slender  pedestal  of  an  occotilla. 

"Lucky  you,  for  you  get  an  answer!"  he  thought 
whimsically.  "Amble  along,  Pardner,  or  the  night 
witches  get  us ! " 

And  then  he  circled  a  little  at  the  north  of  the  canon, 
and  the  black  horse,  champing  and  fidgeting,  was  held 
there  across  the  trail  by  its  rider. 

"\Ye  are  seeing  things  in  broad  daylight,  Pardner, 
and  there  ain't  no  such  animal,"  decided  Rhodes,  but 
Pardner  whinnied,  and  the  girl  threw  up  her  hand. 

'  This  time  I  am  a  highwayman,  the  far-famed  terror 
of  the  ranges ! "  she  called. 

"Sure!"  he  conceded.  "IVe  been  thinking  quite  a 
while  that  your  term  must  be  about  up." 

She  laughed  at  that,  and  came  alongside. 

"  Didn't  you  suppose  I  might  have  my  time  shortened 
for  good  behavior?"  she  asked.  "You  never  even  ride 
our  way  to  see." 

"  Me  ?     Why,  child,  I'm  so  busy  absorbing  kultnr  from 


30 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

your  scientific  manager  that  my  spare  moments  for  dam 
sels  in  distress  are  none  too  plenty.  You  sent  out  nary 
a  call,  and  how  expect  the  lowest  of  your  serfs  to  hang 
around  ?  " 

"  Serf  ?  That's  good ! "  she  said  skeptically.  "  And  say, 
you  must  love  Conrad  about  as  much  as  Cap  Pike  does." 

"And  that?" 

"  Is  like  a  rattlesnake/' 

"  Don't  know  that  rattlesnake  would  be  my  first  choice 
of  comparison,"  remarked  Rhodes.  "  Back  in  Tennessee 
we  have  a  variety  beside  which  the  rattlesnake  is  a 
gentleman ;  a  rattlesnake  does  his  best  to  give  warning  of 
intention,  but  the  copperhead  never  does." 

"Copperhead!  that's  funny,  for  you  know  Conrad's 
hair  is  just  about  the  color  of  copper,  dusty  copper,  faded 
copper  —  copper  with  tin  filings  sifted  through." 

"Don't  strain  yourself,"  laughed  Rhodes.  "That 
beautiful  blondness  makes  him  mighty  attractive  to  our 
Mexican  cousins." 

"They  can  have  my  share,"  decided  the  girl.  "I 
could  worry  along  without  him  quite  awhile.  He  man 
ages  to  get  rid  of  all  the  likeable  range  men  muy  pronto/' 

Rhodes  laughed  until  she  stared  at  him  f rowningly.  and 
then  the  delicious  color  swept  over  her  face. 

"Oh,  you!"  she  said,  and  Rhodes  thought  of  sweet 
peas,  and  pink  roses  in  old  southern  gardens  as  her  lips 
strove  to  be  straight,  yet  curved  deliciously.  No  one  had 
mentioned  to  him  how  pretty  she  was;  he  had  thought  of 
her  as  a  browned  torn-boy,  but  instead  she  was  a  shell- 
pink  bud  on  a  slender  stem,  and  wonder  of  wonders  — 
she  rode  a  side-saddle  in  Arizona ! 


THE  RED  GOLD  LEGEND  31 

She  noticed  him  looking  at  it 

"  Are  you  going  to  laugh  at  that,  too  ?  "  she  demanded. 

"  Why  no,  it  hadn't,  occurred  to  me.  It  sort  of  looks 
like  home  to  me  —  our  southern  girls  use  them." 

She  turned  to  him  with  a  quick  birdlike  movement, 
her  gray  eyes  softened  and  trusting. 

"  It  was  my  mother's  saddle,  a  wedding  present  from 
the  vaqueros  of  our  ranches  when  she  married  my  father. 
I  am  only  beginning-  to  use  it,  and  not  so  sure  of  myself 
as  with  the  one  I  learned  on." 

"Oh,  I  don't  know/'  he  observed.  "You  certainly 
looked  sure  when  you  jumped  that  fence  at  Herrara's." 

She  glanced  at  him  quickly,  curious,  and  then  smiling. 

"  And  it  was  you,  not  the  meadow  lark !  You  are  too 
clever!" 

"  And  you  didn't  answer,  just  turned  your  back  on  the 
lonely  ranger,"  he  stated  dolefully,  but  she  laughed. 

"  This  doesn't  look  it,  waiting  to  go  home  with  you," 
she  retorted.  "  Cap  Pike  has  been  telling  me  about  you 
until  I  feel  as  if  I  had  known  you  forever.  -He  says  you 
are  his  family  now,  so  of  course  that  makes  Granados 
different  for  you/' 

"  Why,  yes.  I've  been  in  sight  of  Granados  as  much  as 
twice  since  I  struck  this  neck  of  the  woods.  Your  man 
ager  seems  to  think  my  valuable  services  are  indispensable 
at  the  southern  side  of  this  little  world." 

"  So  that's  the  reason  ?  I  didn't  know,"  she  said  slowly. 
"One  would  ^have  to  be  a  seventh  son  of  a  seventh  son 
to  understand  his  queer  ways.  But  you  are  going  along 
home  today,  for  I  am  a  damsel  in  distress  and  need  to 
be  escorted." 


32 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

"  You  don't  look  distressed,  and  I've  an  idea  you  could 
run  away  from  your  escort  if  you  took  a  notion,"  he 
returned.  "  But  it  is  my  lucky  day  that  I  had  a  hunch 
for  this  canon  trail  and  the  Green  Springs,  and  I  am 
happy  to  tag  along." 

They  had  reached  Herrara's  corral  and  Rhodes  glanced 
up  the  little  gulch  to  the  well.  The  flat  rock  there  was 
stripped  of  the  odd  collection,  and  Narcisco  stood  at  the 
corner  of  the  adobe  watching  them  somberly. 

"  Buenas  tardes!"  called  the  girl.  "Take  care  of  the 
nino  as  the  very  treasure  of  your  heart ! " 

"Sure!"  agreed  the  lad,  " Adios,  sefiorita." 

"Why  the  special  guard  over  the  treasure?"  asked 
Rhodes  as  their  horses  fell  into  the  long  easy  lope  side 
by  side.  "The  house  seems  full  and  running  over,  and 
ninitas  to  spare." 

:t  There  are  never  any  to  spare,"  she  reminded  him, 
"  and  this  one  is  doubly  precious  for  it  is  named  for  me  — 
together  its  saint  and  its  two  grandmothers!  Benicia 
promised  me  long  ago  that  whether  it  was  a  boy  or  a  girl 
it  would  be  Billie  Bernard  Herrara.  I  was  just  taking 
the  extra  clothes  I  had  Tia  Luz  make  for  him  —  and  he 
is  a  little  black-eyed  darling !  Soon  as  he  is  weaned  I'm 
going  to  adopt  him ;  I  always  did  want  a  piccaninny  for 
my  own." 

Rhodes  guided  his  horse  carefully  around  a  barranca 
edge,  honeycombed  by  gophers,  and  then  let  his  eyes  rest 
again  on  the  lustrous  confiding  eyes,  and  the  rose-leaf 
lips. 

Afterward  he  told  himself  that  was  the  moment  he 
began  to  be  bewitched  by  Billie  Bernard. 


THE  RED  GOLD  LEGEND 33 

But  what  he  really  said  was  — "  Shoo,  child,  you're 
only  a  piccaninny  yourself !  "  and  they  both  laughed. 

It  was  quite  wonderful  how  old  Captain  Pike  had  man 
aged  to  serve  as  a  family  foundation  for  their  knowledge 
of  each  other.  There  was  not  a  doubt  or  a  barrier  be 
tween  them,  they  were  "home  folks"  riding  from  dif 
ferent  ways  and  meeting  in  the  desert,  and  silently  claim 
ing  kindred. 

The  shadows  grew  long  and  long  under  the  sun  of  the 
old  Mexic  land,  and  the  high  heavens  blazed  above  in 
yellows  and  pinks  fading  into  veiled  blues  and  far  misty 
lavenders  in  the  hollows  of  the  hills. 

The  girl  drew  a  great  breath  of  sheer  delight  as  she 
waved  her  hands  towards  the  fire  flame  in  the  west  where 
the  desert  was  a  trail  of  golden  glory. 

"Oh,  I  am  glad  —  glad  I  got  away!"  she  said  in  a 
hushed  half-awed  voice.  "  It  never  —  never  could  be  like 
this  twice  and  we  are  seeing  it !  Look  at  the  moon ! " 

The  white  circle  in  the  east  was  showing  through  a  net 
of  softest  purple  and  the  beauty  of  it  caused  them  to 
halt. 

"  Oh,  it  makes  me  want  to  sing,  or  to  say  my  prayers, 
or — to  cry!"  she  said,  and  she  blinked  tears  from  her 
eyes  and  smiled  at  him.  "  I  reckon  the  colors  would  look 
the  same  from  the  veranda,  but  all  this  makes  it  seem 
different,"  and  her  gesture  took  in  the  wide  ranges. 

"  Sure  it  does,"  he  agreed.  "  One  wants  to  yell, '  Hurrah 
for  God ! '  when  a  combination  like  this  is  spread  before 
the  poor  meek  and  lowly  of  the  earth.  It  is  a  great  stage 
setting,  and  makes  us  humans  seem  rather  inadequate. 
Why,  we  can't  even  find  the  right  words  for  it." 


34 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

"  It  makes  me  feel  that  I  just  want  to  ride  on  and  on, 
and  on  through  it,  no  matter  which  way  I  was  headed." 

"Well,  take  it  from  me,  senorita,  you  are  headed  the 
right  way,"  he  observed.  "  Going  north  is  safe,  but  the 
blue  ranges  of  the  south  are  walls  of  danger.  The  old 
border  line  is  a  good  landmark  to  tie  to." 

"  Um ! "  she  agreed,  "  but  all  the  fascinating  things  and 
the  witchy  things,  and  the  mysterious  things  are  down 
there  over  the  border.  I  never  get  real  joy  riding  north." 

"  Perhaps  because  it  is  not  forbidden,  Miss  Eve." 

Then  they  laughed  again  and  lifted  the  bridles,  and 
the  horses  broke  into  a  steady  lope,  neck  and  neck, 
as  the  afterglow  made  the  earth  radiant  and  the  young 
faces  reflected  the  glory  of  it. 

"What  was  that  you  said  about  getting  away?"  he 
queried.  "Did  you  break  jail?" 

"Just  about.  Papa  Singleton  hid  my  cross-saddle 
thinking  I  would  not  go  far  on  this  one.  They  have  put 
a  ban  on  my  riding  south,  but  I  just  had  to  see  my  Billie 
Bernard  Herrara." 

"And  you  ran  away?" 

"  N-no.  We  sneaked  away  mighty  slow  and  still  till 
we  got  a  mile  or  two  out,  and  then  we  certainly  burned  the 
wind.  Didn't  we,  Pat?" 

"Well,  as  range  boss  of  this  end  of  the  ranch  I  reckon 
I  have  to  herd  you  home,  and  tell  them  to  put  up  the 
fences,"  said  Rhodes. 

"  Yes,  you  will ! "  she  retorted  in  derision  of  this  highly 
improbable  suggestion. 

"  Surest  thing  you  know !  Singleton  has  good  reasons 
for  restricting  your  little  pleasure  rides  to  Granados.  Just 


THE  RED  GOLD  LEGEND  35 

suppose  El  Gavilan,  the  Hawk,  should  cross  your  trail  in 
Sonora,  take  a  fancy  to  Pat — for  Pat  is  some  caballo! 
—  and  gather  you  in  as  camp  cook  ?  " 

"Camp  cook?" 

"  Why,  yes ;  you  can  cook,  can't  you  ?  All  girls  should 
know  how  to  cook/' 

"  What  if  I  do?  I  have  cooked  on  the  camp  trips  with 
Cap  Pike,  but  that  doesn't  say  I'll  ever  cook  for  that 
wild  rebel,  Ramon  Rotil.  Are  you  trying  to  frighten  me 
off  the  ranges?" 

"  No,  only  stating  the  case,"  replied  Rhodes  lighting  a 
cigarette  and  observing  her  while  appearing  not  to. 
"  Quite  a  few  of  the  girls  in  the  revolution  camps  are  as 
young  as  you,  and  many  of  them  are  not  doing  camp 
work  by  their  own  choice." 

"But  I  —  "  she  began  indignantly. 

"Oh  yes,  in  time  you  would  be  ransomed,  and  for  a 
few  minutes  you  might  think  it  romantic  —  the  'Bandit 
Bride/  the  'Rebel  Queen/  the  'Girl  Guerrilla/  and  all 
that  sort  of  dope,  —  but  believe  me,  child,  by  the  time  the 
ransom  was  paid  you  would  be  sure  that  north  of  the  line 
was  the  garden  spot  of  the  earth  and  heaven  enough  for 
you,  if  you  could  only  see  it  again!" 

She  gave  him  one  sulky  resentful  look  and  dug  her  heel 
into  Pat.  He  leaped  a  length  ahead  of  the  roan  and 
started  running. 

"  You  can  pretend  you  are  El  Gavilan  after  a  lark,  and 
see  how  near  you  will  get!"  she  called  derisively  and 
leaned  forward  urging  the  black  to  his  best, 

"You  glorified  gray-eyed  lark!"  he  cried.  "Gather 
her  in,  Pardner!" 


36  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

But  he  rode  wide  to  the  side  instead  of  at  the  heels 
of  Pat  and  thus  they  rode  neck  and  neck  joyously  while 
he  laughed  at  her  intent  to  leave  him  behind. 

The  corrals  and  long  hay  ricks  of  Granados  were  now 
in  sight,  backed  by  the  avenue  of  palms  and  streaks  of 
green  where  the  irrigation  ditches  led  water  to  the  out 
lying  fields  and  orchards. 

"  El  Gavilan ! "  she  called  laughingly.  "  Beat  him,  Pat, 
-beat  him  to  the  home  gate!" 

Then  out  of  a  fork  of  the  road  to  the  left,  an  automo 
bile  swept  to  them  from  a  little  valley,  one  man  was  driv 
ing  like  the  wind  and  another  waved  and  shouted. 
Rhodes'  eyes  assured  him  that  the  shouting  man  was 
Philip  Singleton,  and  he  rode  closer  to  the  girl,  grasped 
her  bridle,  and  slowed  down  his  own  horse  as  well  as 
hers. 

"  You'll  hate  me  some  more  for  this,"  he  stated  as  she 
tried  to  jerk  loose  and  failed,  "but  that  yelping  wind 
mill  is  your  fond  guardian,  and  he  probably  thinks  I  am 
trying  to  kidnap  you." 

She  halted  at  that,  laughing  and  breathless,  and  waved 
her  hand  to  the  occupants  of  the  car. 

"I  can  be  good  as  an  angel  now  that  I  have  had  my 
day!"  she  said.  "Hello  folks!  What's  the  excite 
ment?" 

The  slender  man  whom  Rhodes  had  termed  the  yelping 
windmill,  removed  his  goggles,  and  glared,  hopelessly 
distressed  at  the  flushed,  half-laughing  girl. 

"Billie  —  Wilfreda!" 

"  Now,  now,  Papa  Singleton !  Don't  swear,  and  don't 
ever  get  frightened  because  I  am  out  of  sight."  Then 


THE  RED  GOLD  LEGEND  37 

she  cast  one  withering  glance  at  Rhodes,  adding,  —  "and 
if  you  engage  range  bosses  like  this  one  no  one  on 
Granados  will  ever  get  out  of  sight!" 

"The  entire  house  force  has  been  searching  for  you 
over  two  hours.  Where  have  you  been?" 

"  Oh,  come  along  home  to  supper,  and  don't  fuss,"  she 
suggested.  "  Just  because  you  hid  my  other  saddle  I  went 
on  a  little  pasear  of  my  own,  and  I  met  up  with  this  roan 
on  my  way  home." 

Rhodes  grinned  at  the  way  she  eliminated  the  rider  of 
the  roan  horse,  but  the  driver  of  the  machine  was  not 
deceived  by  the  apparent  slight.  He  had  seen  that  half 
defiant  smile  of  comradeship,  and  his  tone  was  not  nice. 

"  It  is  not  good  business  to  waste  time  and  men  in  this 
way,"  he  stated  flatly.  "  It  would  be  better  that  word  is 
left  with  the  right  ones  when  you  go  over  the  border  to 
amuse  yourself  in  Sonora." 

The  smile  went  out  of  the  eyes  of  the  girl,  and  she  held 
her  head  very  erect. 

"  You  and  Mr.  Rhodes  appear  to  agree  perfectly,  Mr. 
Conrad,"  she  remarked.  "He  was  trying  to  show  me 
how  little  chance  I  would  stand  against  El  Gavilan  or 
even  the  Yaqui  slave  traders  if  they  ranged  up  towards 
the  border." 

"  Slave  traders  ? "  repeated  Conrad.  "  You  are  making 
your  jokes  about  that,  of  course,  but  the  camp  followers 
of  the  revolution  is  a  different  thing;  —  everywhere  they 
are  ranging." 

The  girl  did  not  answer,  and  the  car  sped  on  to  the 
ranch  house  while  the  two  horses  cantered  along  after 
them,  but  the  joyous  freedom  of  the  ride  had  vanished, 


38 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

lost  back  there  on  the  ranges  when  the  other  minds  met 
them  in  a  clash. 

"  Say,"  observed  Rhodes,  "  I  said  nothing  about  Yaqui 
slave  traders.  Where  did  you  get  that? " 

"  I  heard  Conrad  and  his  man  Brehman  talking  of  the 
profits, — •  sixty  pesos  a  head  I  think  it  was.  I  wonder 
how  they  knew  ?  " 

Singleton  was  waiting  for  them  at  the  entrance  to  the 
ranch  house,  great  adobe  with  a  patio  eighty  feet  square 
in  the  center.  In  the  old  old  days  it  had  housed  all  the 
vaqueros,  but  now  the  ranchmen  were  divided  up  on 
different  outlying  rancherias  and  the  many  rooms  of 
Granados  were  mostly  empty.  Conrad,  his  secretary 
Brehman,  and  their  cook  occupied  one  corner,  while  Sin 
gleton  and  Billie  and  Tia  Luz  with  her  brood  of  helpers 
occupied  the  other. 

Singleton  was  not  equal  to  the  large  hospitality  of  the 
old  days  when  the  owner  of  a  hacienda  was  a  sort  of 
king,  dispensing  favors  and  duties  to  a  small  army  of 
retainers.  A  companionable  individual  he  was  glad  to 
meet  and  chat  or  smoke  with,  but  if  the  property  had  been 
his  own  he  would  have  sold  every  acre  and  spent  the  pro 
ceeds  in  some  city  of  the  East  where  a  gentleman  could 
get  something  for  his  money. 

Conrad  had  halted  a  moment  after  Singleton  climbed 
out  of  the  car. 

"I  sent  word  to  Rhodes  to  come  up  from  La  Partida 
because  of  the  horse  shipment,"  he  said  looking  across 
the  level  where  the  two  riders  were  just  entering  the  palm 
avenue.  "Because  of  that  it  would  seem  he  is  to  be 
my  guest,  and  I  have  room." 


THE  RED  GOLD  LEGEND  39 

"Oh,  we  all  have  room,  more  room  than  anything 
else/'  answered  Singleton  drearily,  "but  it  will  be  as 
Billie  says.  I  see  Pike's  nag  here,  and  she  always  wants 
Pike." 

The  milky  blue  eyes  of  Conrad  slanted  towards  Single 
ton  in  discreet  contempt  of  the  man  who  allowed  a  way 
ward  girl  to  decide  the  guests  or  the  housing  of  them. 
But  he  turned  away. 

"The  telephone  will  reach  me  if  there  is  anything  I 
can  do,"  he  said. 

Singleton  did  not  reply.  He  knew  Conrad  absolutely 
disapproved  of  the  range  boss  being  accepted  as  a  family 
guest.  Between  Billie  and  Captain  Pike,  who  was  a  privi 
leged  character,  he  did  not  quite  see  how  he  could  prevent 
it  in  the  case  of  Rhodes,  although  he  was  honestly  so 
glad  to  see  the  girl  ride  home  safe  that  he  would  have 
accepted  any  guest  of  the  range  she  suggested. 

"  Papa  Phil,"  she  said  smiling  up  into  his  face  teas- 
ingly,  "  I'm  on  my  native  heath  again,  so  don't  be  sulky. 
And  I  have  a  darling  new  namesake  I've  been  making 
clothes  for  for  a  month,  and  I'll  tell  you  all  about  him  if 
you'll  give  Mr.  Rhodes  and  me  a  good  supper.  He  is 
Cap  Pike's  family,  and  will  have  the  south  corner  room ; 
please  tell  Tia  Luz." 

And  when  Billie  was  like  that,  and  called  him  "  Papa 
Phil,"  and  looked  up  at  him  with  limpid  childish  eyes, 
there  was  never  much  else  to  be  said. 

"  I'll  show  Rhodes  his  quarters  myself,  and  you  make 
haste  and  get  your  habit  off.  Luz  has  been  waiting  supper 
an  hour.  Today's  paper  reports  a  band  of  bandits  run 
ning  off  stock  on  the  Alton  ranch,  and  it  is  on  the  Arizona 


40  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

side  of  the  border.    That  should  show  you  it  is  no  time 
to  ride  out  of  sight  of  the  corrals." 

"Now,  now!  you  know  the  paper  raids  aren't  real 
raids.     They'll  have  a  new  one  to  get  excited  over  to 


morrow." 


She  ran  away  to  be  petted  and  scolded  and  prayed 
for  by  Tia  Luz,  who  had  been  her  nurse,  and  was  now 
housekeeper  and  the  privileged  one  to  whom  Billie  turned 
for  help  and  sympathy. 

"  You  laugh !  but  the  heart  was  melting  in  me  with  the 
fear,"  she  grumbled  as  she  fastened  the  yellow  sash  over 
the  white  lawn  into  which  Billie  had  dashed  hurriedly. 
"  It  is  not  a  joke  to  be  caught  in  the  raiding  of  Ramon 
Rotil,  or  any  of  the  other  accursed!  Who  could  think 
it  was  south  you  were  riding  ?  I  was  the  one  to  send  them 
north  in  the  search,  every  man  of  them,  and  Senor  Con 
rad  looks  knives  at  me.  That  man  thinks  I  am  a  liar,  sure 
he  does!  and  the  saints  know  I  was  honest  and  knew 
nothing." 

"  Sure  you  know  nothing,  never  could  and  never  did, 
you  dear  old  bag  of  cotton,"  and  Billie  pinched  affec 
tionately  the  fat  arm  of  Tia  Luz  and  tickled  her  under 
her  fat  chin.  "  Quick  Luzita,  and  fasten  me  up.  Supper 
waits,  and  men  are  always  raving  wolves." 

She  caught  up  a  string  of  amber  beads  and  clasped  it 
about  her  throat  as  she  ran  across  the  patio,  and  Kit 
Rhodes  halted  a  moment  in  the  corridor  to  watch  her. 

"White  and  gold  and  heavenly  lovely,"  he  thought  as 
he  rumpled  his  crisp  brown  curls  meditatively,  all  forget 
ful  of  the  earnest  attempts  he  had  just  made  to  smooth 
them  decorously  with  the  aid  of  a  damp  towel  and  a 


THE  RED  GOLD  LEGEND  41 

pocket  comb.  "  White  and  gold  and  a  silver  spoon,  and  a 
back  seat  for  you,  Kittie  boy!" 

Captain  Pike  emerged  from  a  door  at  the  corner  of  the 
patio.  He  also  had  damp  hair,  a  shiny  face,  and  a  brand- 
new  neckerchief  with  indigo  circles  on  a  white  ground. 

"  Look  at  this,  will  you  ?  "  he  piped  gleefully.  "  Billie's 
the  greatest  child  ever!  Always  something  stuck  under 
the  pillow  like  you'd  hide  candy  for  a  kid,  and  say,  —  if 
any  of  the  outfit  would  chuck  another  hombre  in  my  bunk 
the  little  lady  would  raise  hell  from  here  to  Pinecate, 
and  worse  than  that  there  ain't  any  this  side  of  the 
European  centers  of  civilization.  Come  on  in,  supper's 
ready." 

Rhodes  hesitated  at  the  door  of  the  dining  room,  sud 
denly  conscious  of  a  dusty  blouse  and  a  much  faded  shirt. 
His  spurs  clink-clanked  as  he  strode  along  the  tiling  of 
the  patio,  and  in  the  semi-twilight  he  felt  at  home  in  the 
ranch  house,  but  one  look  at  the  soft  glow  of  the  shaded 
lamps,  and  the  foot  deep  of  Mexican  needlework  on  the 
table  cover,  gave  him  a  picture  of  home  such  as  he  had 
not  seen  on  the  ranges. 

Singleton  was  in  spotless  white  linen,  the  ideal  southern 
ranchman's  home  garb,  while  the  mistress  of  all  the  en 
ticing  picture  was  in  white  and  gold,  and  flushing  pink 
as  she  met  the  grave  appreciative  gaze  of  Rhodes. 

"H'lo  little  Santa  Glaus,"  chirruped  Pike.  "It's  just 
the  proper  caper  to  set  off  my  manly  beauty,  so  I'm  one 
ahead  of  Kit  who  has  no  one  to  garnish  him  for  the  feast 
• — and  it  sure  smells  like  some  feast!" 

"Venison  perhaps  a  trifle  overdone,  but  we  hope  it 
won't  disappoint  you,"  remarked  Singleton.  "  Have  this 


42  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

seat,  Mr.  Rhodes.  Captain  Pike  and  Miss  Bernard  al 
ways  chum  together,  and  have  their  own  side." 

"  Rather,"  decided  Pike,  "  and  that  arrangement  reaches 
back  beyond  the  memory  of  mere  man  in  this  outfit." 

"  I  should  say,"  agreed  the  girl.  "  Why,  he  used  to 
have  to  toss  me  over  his  head  a  certain  number  of  times 
before  I  would  agree  to  be  strapped  in  my  high  chair." 

"  Yep,  and  I  carpentered  the  first  one,  and  it  wasn't  so 
bad  at  that!  Now  child,  if  you  will  pass  the  lemons,  and 
Kit  will  pass  the  decanter  of  amber,  and  someone  else 
will  rustle  some  water,  I'll  manufacture  a  tonic  to  take 
the  dust  out  of  your  throats." 

"Everybody  works  but  father,"  laughed  Billie  as  the 
Chinaman  sliced  and  served  the  venison,  and  Tia  Luz 
helped  supply  all  plates,  and  then  took  her  place  quietly 
at  the  lower  end  of  the  table  and  poured  the  strong  fra 
grant  coffee. 

Rhodes  spoke  to  her  in  Spanish,  and  her  eyes  lit  up  with 
kindly  appreciation. 

"Ah,  very  good!"  she  commented  amicably.  "You 
are  not  then  too  much  Americano  ?  " 

"Well,  yes,  I'm  about  as  American  as  you  find  them 
aside  from  the  Apache  and  Pima  and  the  rest  of  the 
tribes." 

"Maybe  so,  but  not  gringo,"  she  persisted.  "I  am 
scared  of  the  Apache  the  same  as  of  El  Gavilan,  and 
today  my  heart  was  near  to  stop  going  at  all  when  we  lose 
sefiorita  and  that  black  horse  —  and  I  say  a  prayer  for 
you  to  San  Antonio  when  I  see  you  come  fetch  her  home 
again." 

"Yes,  the  black  horse  is  valuable,"  remarked  Billie. 


THE  RED  GOLD  LEGEND 43 

"  Huh !  I  might  as  well  be  in  a  convent  for  all  I  get  to 
see  of  the  ranges  these  late  days.  If  anyone  would  grub 
stake  me,  I'd  break  loose  with  Cap  here  and  go  prospect 
ing  for  adventures  into  some  of  the  unnamed  ranges." 

"  You  see ! "  said  Tia  Luz.  "  Is  it  a  wonder  I  am  cold 
with  the  fear  when  she  is  away  from  my  eyes?  I  have 
lived  to  see  the  people  who  go  into  the  desert  for  adven 
ture,  and  whose  bare  bones  are  all  any  man  looks  on 
again!  Beside  the  mountain  wells  of  Carrizal  my  own 
cousin's  husband  died;  he  could  not  climb  to  the  tank 
in  the  hill.  There  they  found  him  in  the  moon  of  Kumaki, 
which  is  gray  and  nothing  growing  yet." 

"Yes,  many's  the  salt  outfit  in  the  West  played  out 
before  they  reached  Tinajas  Altas,"  said  Pike.  "I've 
heard  curious  tales  about  that  place,  and  the  Carrizals  as 
well.  Billie's  father  nearly  cashed  in  down  in  the  Carri 
zals,  and  one  of  his  men  did." 

"  But  that  is  what  I  am  saying.  It  was  Dario  Ruiz," 
stated  Tia  Luz.  "  Yes,  sefior,  that  was  the  time,  and  it 
was  for  the  nameless  ranges  they  went  seeking,  and  for 
adventures,  treasure  too;  but  —  his  soul  to  God!  it  was 
death  Dario  was  finding  on  that  trail.  Your  father  never 
would  speak  one  word  again  of  the  treasure  of  that  old 
fable,  for  Dario  found  death  instead  of  the  red  gold,  and 
Dario  was  compadre  to  him." 

"  The  red  gold  ?  "  and  Cap  Pike's  eyes  were  alight  with 
interest.  "  Why,  I  was  telling  Kit  about  that  today,  the 
red  gold  of  El  Alisal." 

"  Yes,  Sefior  Capitan,  once  so  rich  and  so  red  it  was  a 
wonder  in  Spain  when  the  padres  are  sending  it  there 
from  the  mission  of  Soledad,  and  then  witches  craft,  like 


44 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

a  cloud,  come  down  and  cover  that  mountain.  So  is  the 
vein  lost  again,  and  it  is  nearly  one  hundred  years.  So 
how  could  Dario  think  to  find  it  when  the  padres,  with 
all  their  prayer,  never  once  found  the  trail  ?  " 

"  I  never  heard  it  was  near  a  mission,"  remarked  Pike. 
"Why,  if  it  had  a  landmark  like  that  there  should  be  no 
trouble." 

"Yet  it  is  so,  and  much  trouble,  also  deaths,"  stated 
Tia  Luz.  "  That  is  how  the  saying  is  that  the  red  gold 
of  El  Alisal  is  gold  bewitched,  for  of  Soledad  not  one 
adobe  is  now  above  ground  unless  it  be  in  the  old  walls  of 
the  hacienda.  All  is  melted  into  earth  again  or  covered  by 
the  ranch  house,  and  it  is  said  the  ranch  house  is  also 
neglected  now,  and  many  of  its  old  walls  are  going." 

"  There  are  still  enough  left  to  serve  as  a  very  fair 
fortress,"  remarked  Singleton.  "I  was  down  there  two 
years  ago  when  we  bought  some  herds  from  Perez,  and 
lost  quite  a  number  from  lack  of  water  befqre  the 
vaqueros  got  them  to  La  Partida  wells.  It  is  a  long  way 
between  water  holes  over  in  Altar." 

"Sure,"  agreed  Pike,  "but  if  the  old  mine  was  near  a 
mission,  and  the  mission  was  near  the  ranch  of  Soledad 
it  should  not  be  a  great  stunt  to  find  it,  and  there  must  be 
water  and  plenty  of  it  if  they  do  much  in  cattle." 

"  They  don't  these  days,"  said  Singleton.  "  Perez  sold 
a  lot  rather  than  risk  confiscation,  and  I  heard  they  did 
have  some  raids  down  there.  I  thought  I  had  heard  most 
of  the  lost  mine  legends  of  western  Sonora,  but  I  never 
heard  of  that  one,  and  I  never  heard  that  Fred  Bernard 
went  looking  for  it." 

The  old  woman  lifted  her  brows  and  shrugged  her 


THE  RED  GOLD  LEGEND  45 

shoulders  with  the  suggestion  that  Sonora  might  hold 
many  secrets  from  the  amicable  gentleman.  But  a  little 
later,  in  an  inquiry  from  Rhodes  she  explained. 

"  See  you,  sefior,  Dario  Ruiz  was  compadre  of  Senor 
Alfredo  Bernard,  Americanos  not  understanding  all  in 
that  word,  and  the  grandfather  of  Dario  was  major- 
domo  of  the  rancho  of  Soledad  at  that  time  the  Apaches 
are  going  down  and  killing  the  people  there.  That  is 
when  the  mine  was  lost.  On  the  skin  of  a  sheep  it  was 
told  in  writing  all  about  it,  and  Dario  had  that  skin. 
Sure  he  had !  It  was  old  and  had  been  buried  in  the  sand, 
and  holes  were  eaten  in  it  by  wild  things,  but  Don  Alfredo 
did  read  it,  and  I  was  hearing  the  reading  of  it  to  Dario 
Ruiz,  but  of  what  use  the  reading  when  that  mine  be 
witched  itself  into  hiding?" 

"  But  the  writing  ?  Did  that  bewitch  itself  away  also  ?  " 
demanded  Billie. 

"  How  could  I  be  asking  of  that  when  Dario  was  dead 
down  there  in  the  desert,  and  his  wife,  that  was  my 
cousin  Anita,  was  crazy  wild  against  Don  Alfredo  the 
father  of  you !  Ai,  that  was  a  bad  time,  and  Don  Alfredo 
with  black  silence  on  him  for  very  sorrow.  And  never 
again  in  his  life  did  he  take  the  Sonora  trail  for  adven 
tures  or  old  treasure.  -And  it  is  best  that  you  keep  to  a 
mind  like  his  mind,  senorita.  He  grew  wise,  but  Dario 
died  for  that  wisdom,  and  in  Sonora  someone  always 
dies  before  wisdom  is  found.  First  it  was  two  priests 
went  to  death  for  that  gold,  and  since  that  old  day  many 
have  been  going.  It  is  a  witchcraft,  and  no  blessing 
on  it!" 

"  Well,  I  reckon  I'd  be  willing  to  cross  my  fingers,  and 


46 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

take  the  trail  if  I  could  get  started  right,"  decided  Rhodes. 
"  It  certainly  sounds  alluring." 

"I  did  go  in  once,"  confessed  Pike,  "but  we  had  no 
luck,  struck  a  tcmporale  where  a  Papago  had  smallpox, 
and  two  dry  wells  where  there  should  have  been  water. 
My  working  pardner  weakened  at  Paradones  and  we 
made  tracks  for  the  good  old  border.  That  is  no  trail  for 
a  lone  white  man." 

"  But  the  writing,  the  writing! "  persisted  Billie.  "  Tia 
Luz,  you  are  a  gold  mine  yourself  of  stories,  but  this 
one  you  never  told,  and  I  am  crazy  about  it !  You  never 
forget  anything,  and  the  writing  you  could  not,  —  so  we 
know  you  have  the  very  words  of  that  writing ! " 

"  Yes,  that  is  true  too,  for  the  words  were  not  so  many, 
and  where  some  words  had  been  the  wild  things  had 
eaten  holes.  The  words  said  that  from  the  mine  of  El 
Alisal  the  mission  of  Soledad  could  be  seen.  And  from 
the  door  of  Soledad  it  was  one  look,  one  only,  to  the 
blue  canoncita  where  the  alisal  tree  was  growing,  and 
water  from  the  gold  of  the  rose  washed  the  roots  of  that 
tree." 

"  Good  God ! "  muttered  Rhodes  staring  at  the  old  lady 
who  sat  nodding  her  head  in  emphasis  until  her  jet  and 
gold  earrings  were  all  a-twinkle.  "  It  was  as  easy  as  that, 
—  yet  no  one  found  it?" 

"But  senor,"  —  and  it  was  plain  to  be  seen  that  Dona 
Luz  was  enjoying  herself  hugely  as  the  center  of  all 
attention,  "the  two  padres  who  made  that  writing  met 
their  death  at  that  place — and  it  was  said  the  barbaros 
at  last  killed  also  the  grandfather  of  Dario,  anyway  he 
did  die,  and  the  women  were  afraid  to  tell  even  a  new 


THE  RED  GOLD  LEGEND 47 

padre  of  that  buried  writing  for  the  cause  that  it  must 
have  been  accursed  when  it  killed  all  people.  That  is  how 
it  was,  and  that  mission  was  forsaken  after  that  time. 
A  Spaniard  came  up  from  Sinaloa  and  hunted  gold  and 
built  Soledad  hacienda  where  that  mission  had  been  in 
that  old  time,  but  no  one  ever  found  any  more  of  gold 
than  the  chickens  always  are  picking,  a  little  here,  a  little 
there  with  a  gravel  in  the  craw.  No  senor,  only  once 
the  red  gold  —  red  as  flame  —  went  out  of  Altar  on  a 
mule  to  the  viceroy  in  Mexico,  and  the  padres  never  lived 
to  send  any  more,  or  see  their  brothers  again.  The  men 
who  dug  that  gold  dug  also  their  grave.  Death  goes 
with  it." 

"Ugh!"  and  Billie  shivered  slightly,  and  looked  at 
Rhodes,  "  don't  you  go  digging  it ! " 

His  eyes  met  hers  across  the  table.  It  was  only  for  an 
instant,  and  then  Billie  got  very  busy  with  her  coffee 
which  she  had  forgotten. 

"Oh,  I'd  travel  with  a  mascot  to  ward  off  evil,"  he 
said.  "Would  you  give  me  a  bead  from  your  string?" 

She  nodded  her  head,  but  did  not  speak.  No  one 
noticed  them,  for  Cap  Pike  was  telling  of  the  old  native 
superstition  that  the  man  who  first  found  an  ore  bed  found 
no  good  luck  for  himself,  though  the  next  man  might 
make  a  fortune  from  it. 

"  Why,"  he  continued  in  evidence,  "  an  Indian  who  finds 
even  a  vein  of  special  clay  for  pottery  doesn't  blaze  a 
trail  to  it  for  anyone  else.  He  uses  it  if  he  wants  it,  be 
cause  his  own  special  guardian  god  uncovered  it  for  him, 
but  if  it  is  meant  for  any  other  man,  that  other  man's  god 
will  lead  him  to  it  when  the  time  comes.  That  is  how  they 


48 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

reason  it  out  for  all  the  things  covered  by  old  Mother 
Earth.  And  I  reckon  the  redder  the  gold  the  more  secret 
the  old  barbaros  would  be  about  it,  for  gold  is  their  sun- 
god  medicine,  or  symbol,  or  something." 

"  With  white  priests  scattered  through  Sonora  for  two 
centuries  one  would  suppose  those  old  superstitions  would 
be  pretty  well  eradicated/'  remarked  Singleton. 

Dona  Luz  glanced  at  him  as  at  a  child  who  must  be  let 
have  his  own  ideas  so  long  as  they  were  harmless,  but 
Pike  laughed. 

"Lord  love  you,  Singleton,  nothing  eradicates  super 
stition  from  the  Indian  mind,  or  any  other  mind!  All 
the  creeds  of  the  earth  are  built  on  it,  and  a  lot  of  the 
white  ones  are  still  alive  and  going  strong!  And  as  for 
priests,  why  man,  the  Indian  priests  are  bred  of  those 
tribes,  and  were  here  before  the  white  men  came  from 
Spain.  It's  just  about  like  this:  If  'Me  und  Gott'  and 
the  U-boats  took  a  notion  to  come  over  and  put  a  ball 
and  chain  on  all  of  so-called  free  America,  there  might 
be  some  pacifist  mongrels  pretend  to  like  it,  and  just 
dote  on  putting  gilt  on  the  chain,  and  kow-towing  to  that 
blood-puddin'  gang  who  are  raising  hell  in  Belgium.  But 
would  the  thoroughbreds  like  it?  Not  on  your  life! 
Well,  don't  you  forget  there  were  a  lot  of  thoroughbreds 
in  the  Indian  clans  even  if  some  of  their  slaves  did  breed 
mongrels !  And  don't  forget  that  the  ships  from  overseas 
are  dumping  more  scrub  stock  on  the  eastern  shores  right 
now  than  you'll  find  in  any  Indian  rancheria  either  here  in 
Pima  or  over  in  Sonora.  The  American  isn't  to  blame 
for  all  the  seventeen  dozen  creeds  they  bring  over, — 
whether  political  or  religious,  and  I  reckon  that's  about 


THE  RED  GOLD  LEGEND  49 

the  way  the  heads  of  the  red  clans  feel.  They  are  more 
polite  than  we  are  about  it,  but  don't  you  think  for  a 
moment  that  the  European  invasion  ever  changed  religion 
for  the  Indian  thoroughbred.  No  sir!  He  is  still  close 
to  the  earth  and  the  stars,  and  if  he  thinks  they  talk  to 
him  —  well,  they  just  talk  to  him,  and  what  they  tell  him 
isn't  for  you  or  me  to  hear,  —  or  to  sit  in  judgment  on 
either,  if  it  comes  to  that!  We  are  the  outsiders/' 

"  Now,  Cap,"  said  Billie,  "  I'm  going  to  take  it  away. 
It's  too  near  your  elbow,  and  you  have  had  a  double  dose 
for  every  single  one  you've  been  handing  out !  You  can 
take  a  rest  until  the  others  catch  up.  Tia  Luz,  give  him 
a  cup  of  coffee  good  and  strong  to  help  get  his  politics 
and  religion  straightened  out." 

Pike  laughed  heartily  with  the  rest  of  them,  and  took 
the  coffee. 

"All  right,  dear  little  Buttercup.  Any  medicine  you 
hand  out  is  good  to  me.  But  say,  that  dope  about  hidden 
ores  may  not  be  all  Indian  at  that,  for  I  recollect  that 
mountaineers  of  Tennessee  had  the  same  hunch  about 
coal  veins,  and  an  old  lead  vein  where  one  family  went 
for  their  ammunition.  They  could  use  it  and  they  did, 
but  were  mighty  sure  they'd  all  be  hoodooed  if  they  un 
covered  it  for  anyone  else,  so  I  reckon  that  primitive 
dope  does  go  pretty  far  back.  I'll  bet  it  was  old  when 
Tubal  Cain  first  began  scratching  around  the  outcroppings 
by  his  lonesomes." 

Conrad  sauntered  along  the  corridor  and  seated  him 
self,  flicking  idly  some  leather  thongs  he  had  cut  out 
from  a  green  hide  with  a  curved  sheath  knife  rather  fine 
and  foreign  looking.  Singleton  called  him  to  come  in 


50  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

and  have  coffee,  but  he  would  not  enter,  pleading  his 
evil-smelling  pipe  as  a  reason. 

"It  can't  beat  mine  for  a  downright  bachelor  equip 
ment,"  affirmed  Pike,  "but  I've  scandalized  this  outfit 
enough,  or  thereabout,  and  that  venison  has  killed  all 
our  appetites  until  breakfast,  so  why  hang  around  where 
ungrateful  children  swat  a  man's  dearest  hobbies  ?" 

"If  you  think  you'll  get  rid  of  me  that  way  you  had 
better  think  again/'  said  Billie.  "  I  don't  mind  your  old 
smokes,  or  any  other  of  your  evil  ways,  so  long  as  you 
and  Tia  Luz  tell  us  more  bewitched  mine  stories.  Say, 
Cap,  wouldn't  it  be  great  if  that  old  sheepskin  was  found 
again,  and  we'd  all  outfit  for  a  Sonora  pasear,  and " 

"We  would  not!"  decided  the  old  man  patting  her 
hair.  "You,  my  lady,  will  take  a  pasear  to  some  high 
brow  finishing  school  beyond  the  ranges,  and  I'll  hit  the 
trail  for  Yuma  in  a  day  or  two,  but  at  the  present  moment 
you  can  wind  up  the  music  box  and  start  it  warbling. 
That  supper  sure  wras  so  perfect  nothing  but  music  will 
do  for  a  finish ! " 

The  men  drifted  out  in  the  corridor  and  settled  into 
the  built-in  seats  of  the  plazita,  though  Rhodes  remained 
standing  in  the  portal  facing  inward  to  the  patio  where 
the  girl's  shimmering  white  dress  fluttered  in  the  moon 
light  beside  the  shadowy  bulk  of  Tia  Luz. 

He  lit  a  cigarette  and  listened  for  the  music  box  Pike 
had  suggested,  but  instead  he  heard  guitar  strings,  and 
the  little  ripple  of  introduction  to  the  old  Spanish  serenade 
Vengo  a  tu  ventana,  "  I  come  to  your  window." 

He  turned  and  glanced  towards  the  men  who  were 
discussing  horse  shipments,  and  possibilities  of  the  Prus- 


THE  RED  GOLD  LEGEND  51 

sian  sea  raiders  sinking  transports  on  the  way  to  France, 
but  decided  his  part  of  that  discussion  could  wait  until 
morning. 

Tia  Luz  had  lit  the  lamp  in  the  sola,  and  the  light 
streamed  across  the  patio  where  the  night  moths  fluttered 
about  the  white  oleanders.  He  smiled  in  comical  self- 
derision  as  he  noticed  the  moths,  but  tossed  away  the 
cigarette  and  followed  the  light. 

When  Captain  Pike  indulged  the  following  morning  in 
sarcastic  comment  over  Kit's  defection,  the  latter  only 
laughed  at  him. 

"  Shirk  business  ?  Nothing  doing.  I  was  strictly  on 
the  job  listening  to  local  items  on  treasure  trails  instead 
of  powwowing  with  you  all  over  the  latest  news  reports 
from  the  Balkans.  Soon  as  my  pocket  has  a  jingle 
again,  I  am  to  get  to  the  French  front  if  little  old  U.  S. 
won't  give  me  a  home  uniform,  but  in  the  meantime 
Dona  Luz  Moreno  is  some  reporter  if  she  is  humored, 
and  I  mean  to  camp  alongside  every  chance  I  get.  She 
has  the  woman  at  the  cantina  backed  off  the  map,  and  my 
future  Spanish  lessons  will  be  under  the  wing  of  Dona 
Luz.  Me  for  her !  " 

"Avaricious  young  scalawag!"  grunted  Pike.  "You'd 
study  African  whistles  and  clicks  and  clacks  if  it  blazed 
trail  to  that  lost  gold  deposit!  Say,  I  sort  of  held  the 
others  out  there  in  front  thinking  I  would  let  you  get 
acquainted  with  little  Billie,  and  you  waste  the  time 
chinning  about  death  in  the  desert,  and  dry  camps  to  that 
black-and-tan  talking  machine/' 

Kit  only  laughed  at  him. 

"A  record  breaker  of  a  moon  too!"  grumbled  the  old 


52 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

man.  "Lord!  —  lord!  at  your  age  I'd  crawled  over  hell 
on  a  rotton  rail  to  just  sit  alongside  a  girl  like  Billie  — 
and  you  pass  her  up  for  an  old  hen  with  a  mustache,  and 
a  gold  trail!" 

Kit  Rhodes  laughed  some  more  as  he  got  into  the 
saddle  and  headed  for  the  Granados  corral,  singing : 

Oh  —  I'll  cut  off  my  long  yellow  hair 

To  dress  in  men's  array, 
And  go  along  with  you,  my  dear 

Your  waiting  man  to  be! 

He  droned  out  the  doleful  and  incongruous  love  ballad 
of  old  lands,  and  old  days,  for  the  absurd  reason  that  the 
youth  of  the  world  in  his  own  land  beat  in  his  blood,  and 
because  in  the  night  time  one  of  the  twinkling  stars  of 
heaven  had  dropped  down  the  sky  and  become  a  girl  of 
earth  who  touched  a  guitar  and  taught  him  the  words 
of  a  Spanish  serenade,  —  in  case  he  should  find  a  Mexican 
sweetheart  along  the  border ! 

For  to  neither  of  the  young,  care-free  things,  had  come 
a  glimmer  of  fore-vision  of  the  long  tragic  days,  treas 
ure  trails  and  desert  deaths,  primitive  devotions  and 
ungodly  vengeance,  in  which  the  threads  of  their  own 
lives  would  be  entangled  before  those  two  ever  heard 
the  music  of  the  patio  again  —  together. 

//  in  Holland  fields  I  met  a  maid 

All  handsome  fond  and  gay, 
And  I  should  chance  to  love  her 

What  would  my  Mary  say? 


THE  RED  GOLD  LEGEND  53 

What  would  I  say,  dear  Willie  ? 

That  I  would  love  her  too, 
And  I  would  step  to  the  one  side 

That  she  might  speak  with  you! 

"Yes,  you  would  —  not!"  he  stated  in  practical  prose 
to  no  one  in  particular.  "  Not  if  you  were  our  girl,  would 
she,  Pardner?" 

Pardner  tossed  up  his  head  in  recognition  of  the  com 
radeship  in  the  tone,  and  Kit  Rhodes  became  silent,  and 
rode  on  to  the  corrals,  happily  smiling  at  some  new 
thoughts* 


CHAPTER  III 

A  VERIFIED  PROPHECY  OF  SENORITA  BILLIE 

THAT  smile  was  yet  with  him  when  he  saw  the  herd 
and  the  vaqueros  coming  up  from  the  water  tanks, 
and  noted  Conrad  and  Tomas  Herrara  talking  together 
beside  Conrad's  automobile. 

The  beat  of  the  many  hoofs  prevented  the  two  men 
from  noting  one  horse  near  them,  and  words  of  Conrad 
came  to  him  clearly. 

"It  has  to  be  that  way.  You  to  go  instead  of  Miguel. 
You  have  enough  English,  you  can  do  it." 

Tomas  Herrara  muttered  something,  evidently  re 
luctance,  for  again  Conrad's  words  were  heard. 

"But  think  of  the  diner o,  much  of  money  to  you! 
And  that  fool  swine  will  not  see  what  is  under  his  nose. 
You  can  do  it,  sure  you  can !  There  is  no  danger.  The 
blame  will  be  to  him  if  it  is  found;  my  agent  will  see 
to  that.  Not  you  but  the  gringo  will  be  the  one  to  an 
swer  the  law.  You  will  know  nothing." 

He  spoke  in  Spanish  rapidly,  while  both  men  watched 
the  approaching  vaqueros. 

The  smile  had  gone  from  Kit's  face,  and  he  was  puz 
zled  to  follow  the  words,  or  even  trust  his  own  ears. 

"  Bueno"  said  Herrara  with  a  nod  of  consent.    "  Since 

Miguel  is  hurt " 

54 


A  VERIFIED  PROPHECY  55 


"Whoa,  Pardner,"  sang  out  Rhodes,  back  of  them 
as  he  slid  out  of  the  saddle.  "  Good  morning,  gentle 
men.  Do  you  say  Miguel  is  hurt,  Herrara?  How  comes 
that?" 

The  face  of  Herrara  went  a  curious  gray,  and  his  lips 
blue  and  apparently  stiff  for  he  only  murmured,  "  Buenas 
dias,  senor,"  and  gulped  and  stared  at  Conrad.  But 
the  surprise  of  Conrad,  while  apparent,  was  easily  ac 
counted  for,  and  he  was  too  well  poised  to  be  startled 
unduly  by  any  emergency. 

"Hah!  Is  it  you,  Rhodes,  so  early?  Yes,  Miguel  is 
reported  hurt  over  Poso  Verde  way.  Not  serious,  but 
for  the  fact  that  he  was  the  one  to  go  with  you  on  the 
horse  shipment,  and  now  another  must  go.  Perhaps  his 
brother  here." 

"Oh  —  ah  —  yes,"  assented  Rhodes  thoughtfully.  He 
was  not  so  old  as  Conrad,  and  quite  aware  he  was  not 
so  clever,  and  he  didn't  know  their  game,  so  he  strove 
as  he  could  to  hold  the  meaning  of  what  he  had  heard, 
and  ended  rather  lamely :  "  Well,  too  bad  about  Miguel, 
but  if  you,  Tomas,  are  going  instead,  you  had  better  get 
your  war  togs  ready.  We  start  tonight  from  the  Junc 
tion,  and  have  three  hours  to  get  ready." 

"  Three  hours  only ! "  again  Herrara  seemed  to 
weaken.  To  start  in  three  hours  a  journey  into  the  un 
known  far  East  of  the  Americano  was  beyond  his  imag 
inings.  He  shrugged  his  shoulders,  tossed  his  hands  out 
wards  in  despair,  and  turned  toward  the  barns. 

Conrad  looked  after  him  in  irritation,  and  then  smiled 
at  Rhodes.  He  had  a  rather  ingratiating  smile,  and  it 
was  the  first  time  he  had  betrayed  it  to  Kit. 


56  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

"These  explosive  Latins,"  he  said  derisively.  "I 
think  I  can  make  him  reasonable,  and  you  go  forward 
with  your  own  preparations." 

He  followed  Herrara,  leaving  Kit  staring  after  them 
wondering.  His  glance  then  rested  on  the  automobile, 
and  he  noted  that  it  had  not  merely  come  out  of  the 
garage  for  the  usual  work  of  the  day.  It  had  been  trav 
eling  somewhere,  for  the  wheels  were  crusted  with  mud 
—  mud  not  there  at  sunset  yesterday.  And  in  that  sec 
tion  of  Pima  there  was  no  water  to  make  mud  nearer 
than  Poso  Verde,  and  it  was  over  there  Miguel  Herrara 
had  been  hurt! 

He  had  only  three  hours,  and  no  time  to  investigate. 
There  were  rumors  of  smuggling  all  along  the  line  over 
there,  and  strange  conferences  between  Mexican  states 
men  and  sellers  of  Connecticut  hardware  of  an  explosive 
nature.  He  recalled  having  heard  that  Singleton  was 
from  Connecticut,  or  was  it  Massachusetts?  Anyway, 
it  was  over  there  at  the  eastern  edge  of  the  country  some 
where,  and  it  was  also  where  plots  and  counter  plots  were 
pretty  thick  concerning  ammunition ;  also  they  were  more 
complicated  on  the  Mexican  border.  He  wondered  if 
Singleton  was  as  simple  as  he  looked,  for  he  certainly 
was  paying  wages  to  a  mixed  lot.  Also  it  was  a  cinch  to 
run  any  desirable  contraband  from  Granados  across  to 
La  Partida  and  from  there  hellwards. 

He  wondered  if  Singleton  knew?  But  Singleton  had 
a  capable  business  manager,  while  he,  Rhodes,  was  only 
a  range  boss  with  the  understanding  that  he  adjust  him 
self  to  any  work  a  white  man  might  qualify  for. 

The  mere  fact  that  once  he  had  sat  at  the  family  table 


A  VERIFIED  PROPHECY  57 

might  not,  in  Singleton's  eyes,  warrant  him  in  criticiz 
ing  an  approved  manager,  or  directing  suspicion  towards 
him.  He  might  speak  to  Pike,  but  he  realized  that  Pike 
was  not  taken  very  seriously;  only  welcomed  because 
Billie  liked  him,  and  because  an  American  ranch  usually 
had  the  open  door  for  the  old  timers  of  his  caliber. 

Also  Pike  had  told  him  plainly  that  he  must  not  be 
expected  to  mix  up  in  the  Mexican  game  for  any  reason 
whatsoever. 

"I  reckon  it's  up  to  us,  Pardner,"  he  decided,  as  he 
called  directions  to  the  different  men  loading  the  wagons 
with  oats  and  barley  for  the  stock  on  the  trail.  There 
were  three  mule  teams  ready  for  the  railroad  junction 
where  the  cars  were  waiting  on  the  siding,  or  would  be 
by  night. 

Some  of  the  men  were  getting  the  mules  straightened 
out  in  the  harness  while  others  were  roping  horses  in 
the  corral.  It  would  take  most  of  the  home  outfit  to  lead 
and  drive  them  to  the  railroad,  which  meant  one  lonely 
and  brief  period  of  hilarity  at  the  only  joint  where 
"  bootleg  "  whiskey  could  be  secured  by  the  knowing,  and 
a  "  movie "  theater  could  add  to  other  simple  entertain 
ments  for  the  gentle  Juans  of  the  ranges.  Neither  Con 
rad  nor  Herrara  were  visible,  and  he  presumed  the  latter 
was  making  arrangements  for  the  sudden  and  unexpected 
departure  from  his  family,  but  he  knew  he  had  not  at 
tempted  to  ride  home  for  a  farewell  greeting,  because  his 
horse  still  stood  near  Conrad's  automobile  where  he  had 
first  overheard  that  curious  conversation  between  the  two 
men. 

After  a  leisurely  breakfast  Pike  was  meandering  to- 


58 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

wards  the  stock  yard  on  his  mule  with  the  intent  to  trail 
along  to  the  Junction  with  the  boys.  Rhodes,  catching 
sight  of  him,  looked  hopefully  but  unsuccessfully  for  Sin 
gleton.  The  minutes  were  slipping  by,  and  no  definite 
instructions  had  been  given  him  concerning  the  three 
car  loads  of  horses.  Did  Conrad  mean  to  leave  every 
detail  until  the  last  moment  and  make  difficulties  for  the 
new  man  ?  Was  that  the  way  he  got  rid  of  the  Ameri 
cans  he  didn't  want?  He  recalled  the  prophecy  of  Billie 
that  he  would  not  hold  his  job.  Well,  he  would  show 
her! 

With  memories  of  the  white  and  gold  vision  of  the 
previous  night,  and  the  guitar  in  the  sola,  and  the  moon 
light  touching  all  to  enchantment,  he  had  fully  decided 
that  he  would  not  only  hold  the  job,  but  on  some  future 
day  he  would  be  business  manager.  And  he'd  find  that 
lost  mine  or  know  the  reason  why,  and  he  would 

For  after  all  Kit  Rhodes  was  only  twenty-three  and 
all  of  life  ahead  of  him  for  dreams!  He  was  wonder 
ing  what  he  could  fetch  back  from  the  East  that  would 
be  acceptable  to  a  witchy  elf  of  a  butterfly  girl  who  al 
ready  had,  to  his  simple  estimate,  all  the  requisites  of  a 
princess  royal. 

Juanito  came  loping  past,  and  Rhodes  asked  for  his 
father. 

"  I  am  myself  looking  for  him,'*  said  the  boy.  "  He  has 
there  on  his  horse  all  the  things  for  Tio  Miguel,  but 
Miguel  not  coming,  and  I  wonder  who  goes  ?  Maybe  it 
will  be  me.  What  you  think?"  he  asked  hopefully. 

Kit  did  not  answer,  for  Juanito's  mention  of  the  articles 
for  Miguel  brought  from  home  by  Tomas,  and  still 


A  VERIFIED  PROPHECY 59 

fastened  to  the  back  of  the  saddle,  drew  his  attention  to 
the  articles  tied  there  —  some  clothing  badly  wrapped,  a 
pair  of  black  shoes  tied  together  with  brown  strings, 
and  under  them,  yet  plainly  visible,  a  canvas  water  bag. 

There  was  nothing  unusual  in  a  water  bag  or  a  can 
teen  tied  back  of  any  saddle  in  the  dry  lands,  it  was  the 
sensible  thing  to  do,  but  Kit  found  himself  staring  at  this 
particular  water  bag  stupidly,  remembering  where  he  had 
seen  it  last.  It  had  been  only  partly  full  then,  but  now 
it  was  plump  and  round  as  if  water-filled;  yet  one  glance 
told  him  it  was  not  wet,  and  moreover,  he  had  noted  the 
day  before  a  hole  in  the  side  tied  up  in  a  hard  knot  by 
twine,  and  there  was  the  knot! 

Yet  it  might  be  a  stock  of  pinole,  parched  corn,  as  evi 
dence  of  Miguel's  forethought  against  privation  on  the 
long  eastern  trail.  He  could  think  of  several  reasonable 
things  to  account  for  an  old  water  bag  lied  to  a  Mexi 
can's  saddle,  but  reason  did  not  prevent  his  glance  turn 
ing  to  it  again  and  again. 

The  fear  in  Narcisco's  eyes  came  back  to  him,  and  his 
attempt  to  cover  his  harmless  playthings  at  the  coming 
of  the  unexpected  American.  He  wondered 

"  Say,  Bub,  I've  got  ten  dollars  to  invest  in  some  little 
trinket  for  Billie  boy,  and  I  want  you  to  put  it  down  in 
your  jeans  and  invest  it  in  whatever  it  will  cover,"  said 
Captain  Pike  at  his  elbow,  clinking  the  silver  coin  medi 
tatively.  "  You'll  have  time  to  see  plenty  attractive  things 
for  the  money  there  in  the  streets  of  New  York,  or  Balti 
more,  or  whichever  of  the  dock  towns  you'll  be  heading 
for." 

Rhodes  accepted  the  coin,  absently  frowning. 


60 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

"That's  one  of  the  dark  secrets  not  yet  divulged  by 
this  curious  management,"  he  growled.  "  I'm  to  go,  or 
so  I  was  told,  but  have  been  given  no  instructions. 
Where's  Singleton?" 

"Just  rounded  up  for  breakfast." 

"  Is  he  coming  down  here  to  the  corrals  ?  " 

"  Not  that  I  could  notice.  Pedro  got  in  from  the  Junc 
tion  with  last  Sunday's  papers,  and  he  and  Billie  have  the 
picture  sheets  spread  around,  having  a  weekly  feast." 

Kit  strode  over  to  his  mount,  and  then  halted,  glanc 
ing  towards  the  house  a  half  mile  away,  and  then  at  the 
telephone  poles  along  the  wide  lane. 

"Say,  there's  a  telephone  somewhere  down  here  at 
the  works,  connecting  with  the  hacienda,  isn't  there?" 

"  Sure,  in  that  hallway  between  the  two  adobes  where 
the  bunk  house  ends  and  offices  begin." 

Kit  started  briskly  towards  the  long  bunk  house,  and 
then  turned  to  Pike. 

"  Do  me  a  favor,  Captain.  Stay  right  there  till  I  get 
back,  and  don't  let  anyone  take  that  Herrara  horse  away, 
or  his  load ! " 

"All  right,  but  load!  —  why,  the  spotted  rat  hasn't 
got  a  load  for  a  jack  rabbit,  load ! "  and  Pike  sniffed  dis 
dain  at  the  little  knobs  of  baggage  dangling  from  the 
rawhide  strings.  He  didn't  think  the  subdued  animal 
needed  watching — still,  if  Kit  said  so 

At  the  same  time  Kit  was  calling  the  house,  and  hear 
ing  in  reply  a  soft  whistle  of  the  meadow  lark,  and  then 
a  girl's  laugh. 

"Your  music  is  good  to  listen  to,  Lark-child,"  he 
called  back,  "  and  your  ears  are  perfectly  good  at  telling 


A  VERIFIED  PROPHECY  61 

who's  who,  but  this  is  a  strictly  business  day,  and  it  is 
Mr.  Singleton  I  need  to  speak  with." 

"Still  holding  your  job,  or  asking  for  your  time?" 
came  the  mocking  voice. 

"You  bet  I'm  holding  my  job,  also  I  am  on  it,  and 
want  the  boss." 

"Well,  sometimes  you  know  the  boys  call  me  the 
boss.  What  can  we  do  for  you,  Mr.  Kit  Rhodes  ?  " 

"I'll  use  all  three  of  my  Spanish  cuss  words  in  a 
minute,  if  you  don't  be  reasonable,"  he  thundered. 

"Is  that  a  bribe?"  came  sweetly  over  the  wire,  and 
when  he  muttered  something  impatiently,  she  laughed  and 
told  him  it  was  not  fair  to  use  another  language  when  he 
had  promised  Spanish. 

"  Listen  to  me,  young  lady,  if  I  can't  get  Singleton  on 
the  wire  I'll  get  on  a  horse  and  go  up  there ! " 

"  And  you  listen  to  me,  young  man,  it  wouldn't  do  you 
a  bit  of  good,  for  just  now  he  is  nearly  having  a  fit,  and 
writing  telegrams  about  something  more  important  than 
the  horse  corrals." 

"  There  is  nothing  more  important  this  day  and  date," 
insisted  Kit. 

"Well,  if  you  were  as  strictly  a  white  dove  advocate 
as  Papa  Singleton  is,  and  as  neutral,  and  then  saw  a  full 
page  Sunday  supplement  of  your  pet  picture  fraulein, 
working  for  your  pet  charity  and  sifting  poison  into  hos 
pital  bandages  and  powdered  glass  in  jellies  for  the  sol 
diers  of  the  Allies,  I  reckon  you  would  change  your 
mind." 

"  Powdered  glass !  —  in  feed!"  repeated  Kit,  stunned  at 
the  words  and  the  sudden  thought  they  suggested.  "  Great 


62 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

God,  girl,  you  don't  have  to  go  to  the  eastern  papers  for 
that!  You've  got  the  same  trick  right  here  in  Granados 
this  minute !  Why  —  damn  you ! " 

The  receiver  fell  from  his  hand  as  a  crushing  blow  was 
dealt  him  from  the  door  at  his  back.  He  heard  a  girl's 
scream  in  the  distance  as  he  grappled  with  Conrad  and 
saved  himself  a  second  blow  from  the  automobile  wrench 
in  the  manager's  hands.  It  fell  to  the  tiles  between  them, 
and  Rhodes  kicked  it  to  one  side  as  he  struck  and  struck 
again  the  white,  furious  face  of  Conrad. 

"The  wrench!  Tomas,  the  wrench!  Give  it  to  him! 
The  Americano  would  murder  me ! "  shouted  Conrad. 

Tomas  had  other  things  to  think  of.  He  had  heard 
as  much  as  Conrad  of  the  telephone  discourse,  and  was 
aware  of  his  pinto  standing  placidly  not  fifty  feet  away, 
with  all  the  damning  evidence  in  the  case  tied  to  the  back 
of  the  saddle! 

Juanito,  however,  ran  like  a  cat  at  his  master's  call 
and  caught  up  the  wrench,  but  halted  when  Pike  closed 
on  his  shoulder  and  pressed  a  cold  little  circle  of  blue 
steel  against  his  ribs. 

"Not  this  time,  muchacho!"  he  shrilled,  "drop  it! 
This  is  a  man's  game,  and  you're  out." 

The  men  came  running,  and  others  attempted  to  in 
terfere,  but  the  little  old  man  waved  the  gun  at  them  and 
ordered  them  to  keep  their  distance. 

"No  crowding  the  mourners!"  he  admonished  them 
gleefully.  "I've  a  hunch  your  man  started  it,  and  my 
man  will  finish  it.  I  don't  know  what  it's  about,  Kit,  but 
give  him  hell  on  suspicion !  Go  to  it,  boy,  —  do  it  again ! 
Who-ee!  —  that  was  a  sock-dolager !  Keep  him  off  you, 


A  VERIFIED  PROPHECY 63 

Kit,  he's  a  gouger,  and  has  the  weight.  Give  it  to  him 
standing,  and  give  it  to  him  good!  That's  it!  Ki-yi! 
Hell's  bells  and  them  a-chiming ! " 

For  the  finale  of  that  whirl  of  the  two  striking,  stag 
gering,  cursing  men,  was  unexpectedly  dramatic.  They 
had  surged  out  into  the  open,  but  Conrad,  little  by  little 
and  step  by  step,  or  rather  stagger  by  stagger,  had  given 
way  before  the  mallet-like  precision  of  the  younger  man's 
fists  until  Kit's  final  blow  seemed  actually  to  lift  him  off 
his  feet  and  land  him — standing- — -against  the  adobe 
wall.  An  instant  he  quivered  there,  and  then  fell  for 
ward,  glassy  eyed  and  limp. 

Singleton's  car  came  whirling  down  the  lane.  Billie 
leaped  from  it  before  it  stopped,  and  ran  in  horror  to 
the  prone  figure.  One  of  the  older  Mexicans  tried  to 
ward  her  off  from  the  sight. 

"No  good,  sefiorita,  it  is  the  death  df  him,"  he  said 
gently.  "  One  stroke  like  that  on  the  heart  and  it  is  — 
adiosl" 

"What  in  the  name  of  God — "  began  Singleton,  and 
Kit  wiped  the  blood  from  his  eyes  and  faced  him,  stag 
gering  and  breathless. 

"Get  him  water!  Get  busy!"  he  ordered.  "I  don't 
think  he's  done  for,  not  unless  he  has  some  mighty  weak 
spot  he  should  have  had  labelled  before  he  waded  into 
this." 

The  blood  was  still  trickling  from  the  cut  in  his  head 
made  by  the  wrench,  and  he  presented  an  unholy  appear 
ance  as  they  stared  at  him. 

"I'll  explain,  Singleton,  for  I  reckon  you  are  white. 
I'll— after  while " 


64  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

"You'll  explain  nothing  to  me!"  retorted  Singleton. 
"If  the  man  dies  you'll  explain  to  a  jury  and  a  judge; 
otherwise  you'd  better  take  yourself  out  of  this  country." 

Kit  blinked  at  those  who  were  lifting  Conrad  and 
listening  to  his  heart,  which  evidently  had  not  stopped 
permanently. 

"  But  give  me  a  chance,  man ! "  persisted  Rhodes.  "  I 
need  some  mending  done  on  this  head  of  mine,  —  then 
I'll  clear  it  up.  Why,  the  evidence  is  right  here  — 
powdered  glass  for  the  stock  at  the  far  end  of  the  trail 
• — Herrara  knows — -Conrad's  game — and " 

He  did  not  know  why  words  were  difficult  and  the 
faces  moved  in  circles  about  him.  The  blood  soaking  his 
shirt  and  blouse,  and  dripping  off  his  sleeve  was  cause 
enough,  but  he  did  not  even  know  that. 

"  Take  him  away,  Captain  Pike,"  said  Singleton  coldly. 
"  He  is  not  wanted  any  longer  on  either  of  the  ranches. 
It's  the  last  man  I  hire,  Conrad  can  do  it  in  future." 

"Conrad,  eh?"  grunted  Kit  weakly,  "you're  a  nice 
easy  mark  for  the  frankfurter  game,  —  you  and  your 
pacifist  bunch  of  near-traitors!  Why  man " 

But  Singleton  waved  him  away,  and  followed  the 
men  who  were  carrying  Conrad  to  the  bunk  house. 

"All  right,  all  right!  But  take  care  you  don't  meet 
with  a  nastier  accident  than  that  before  you  are  done  with 
this  game!"  he  said  shaking  his  fist  warningly  after  Sin 
gleton,  and  then  he  staggered  to  his  horse  where  Pike  was 
waiting  for  him. 

He  got  in  the  saddle,  and  reeled  there  a  moment,  con 
scious  of  hostile,  watchful  eyes,  —  and  one  girl's  face  all 
alone  in  the  blur. 


A  VERIFIED  PROPHECY 65 

"Say,"  he  said,  "I  heard  you  scream.  You  thought 
it  was  you  I  swore  at  You're  wrong  there.  But  you 
are  some  little  prophetess, —  you  are!  The  job's  gone, 
and  Herrara's  got  away  with  the  evidence,  and  the  jig's 
up!  But  it  wasn't  you  I  cussed  at  —  not  —  at  —  all! 
Come  on,  Pike.  This  new  ventilator  in  my  head  is  playing 
hell  its  own  way.  Come  on  —  let's  go  by-bye ! " 


CHAPTER  IV 

IN  THE  ADOBE  OF  PEDRO  VIJIL 


"rr^HERE  ain't  no  such  animal/'  decided  Kit  Rhodes 
J[  seated  on  the  edge  of  the  bed  in  Pedro  Vigil's 
adobe.  His  head  was  bandaged,  his  face  a  trifle  pale  and 
the  odor  of  medicaments  in  the  shadowy  room  of  the 
one  deep-barred  window.  "No,  Captain,  no  man,  free, 
white  and  twenty-one  could  be  such  a  fool.  Can't  Sin 
gleton  see  that  if  Conrad's  story  was  true  he'd  have  the 
constable  after  me  for  assault  with  intent  to  kill?  He's 
that  sort!" 

"Well,  Singleton  thinks  Conrad  would  be  justified  in 
having*  you  prosecuted,  and  jailed,  and  fined,  and  a  few 
other  things,  but  for  the  reputation  of  Granados  they  let 
you  down  easy.  You  know  it's  the  dovery  for  the  Pass- 
up-the-fists  of  this  section,  and  what  the  Arizona  papers 
would  do  would  be  comic  if  they  ever  got  hold  of  the 
fact  that  Singleton  picked  a  new  bird  for  the  dove  cage, 
and  the  dratted  thing  changed  before  their  eyes  to  a 
fractious  game  rooster  swinging  a  right  like  the  hind  leg 
of  a  mule!  No,  Bub,  we're  orderly,  peaceable  folks 
around  here,  so  for  the  sake  of  our  reputation  Single 
ton  has  prevailed  on  his  manager  to  be  merciful  to  you, 
and  Conrad  has  in  true  pacifist  spirit  let  himself  be  pre 
vailed  upon." 

66 


IN  THE  ADOBE  OF  PEDRO  VIJIL  67 

"  Which  means,"  grinned  Kit,  "  that  I'm  to  be  put  off 
my  guard,  and  done  for  nicely  and  quietly  some  moon 
less  night  when  I  take  the  trail !  And  he  reports  me  either 
drunk  or  temporarily  insane,  does  he?  Well,  when  the 
next  time  comes  I'll  change  that  gentleman's  mind/' 

"  Shucks,  Bub !  Thank  a  fool's  luck  that  your  skull 
was  only  scratched,  and  don't  go  planning  future  wars. 
I  tell  you  we  are  peace  doves  around  here,  and  you  are 
a  stray  broncho  kicking  up  an  undesirable  dust  in  our 
front  yard.  Here  is  your  coin.  Singleton  turned  it  over 
to  me  and  I  receipted  for  it,  and  we  have  enough  between 
us  to  hit  the  Sonora  trail,  and  there's  not  a  bit  of  use 
in  your  hanging  around  here.  You  have  no  evidence. 
You  are  a  stranger  who  ambled  in,  heard  a  sensational 
newspaper  report  of  anti-ally  criminal  intent,  and  on  the 
spot  accused  the  highly  respectable  Granados  rancho  of 
indulging  in  that  same  variety  of  hellishness !  Now  there 
is  your  case  in  a  nutshell,  Bub,  and  you  wouldn't  get  the 
authorities  to  believe  you  in  a  thousand  years ! " 

"What  about  you?" 

"Oh,  I  have  just  little  enough  sense  to  believe  your 
hunch  is  right,  but  that  won't  get  you  anywhere.  They 
think  I'm  loco  too !  I've  an  idea  there  is  a  lot  more  and 
rottener  activities  down  south  of  the  line  with  which  our 
Teutonic  peace  arbitrator  is  mixed  up.  But  he's  been  on 
this  job  five  years,  all  the  trails  are  his,  and  an  outsider 
can't  get  a  look-in !  Now  Miguel  Herrara  has  been  do 
ing  gun-running  across  the  border  for  someone,  and 
Miguel  was  not  only  arrested  by  the  customs  officer,  but 
Miguel  was  killed  two  nights  ago  —  shot  with  his  own 
gun  so  that  it  looks  like  suicide.  Suicide  nothing!  His 


68 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

chief,  whoever  he  is,  was  afraid  Miguel  would  blunder 
or  weaken  under  government  persuasion,  so  Miguel  was 
let  out  of  the  game.  That  case  is  closed,  and  no  evidence 
against  anyone.  I  reckon  everyone  knows  that  the  guns 
and  ammunition  sneaked  over  is  headed  for  Rancho  Sole- 
dad.  The  owner  of  Soledad,  Jose  Perez,  is  the  valued 
friend  of  our  nice  little  Conrad,  and  it  happens  that  Con 
rad  left  Granados  this  morning  for  that  direction,  os 
tensibly  to  negotiate  with  the  political  powers  of  Sonora 
concerning  a  military  guard  for  La  Partida  in  case  revo 
lutionary  stragglers  should  ride  north  for  fresh  saddle- 
horses.  All  appeals  to  the  neutral  chair  warmers  at 
Washington  wins  us  no  protection  from  that  source;  — 
they  only  have  guns  and  men  enough  to  guard  some 
cherished  spots  in  Texas." 

"Well,  if  the  Teuton  is  able  for  a  trail  I  reckon  he 
got  nothing  worse  in  the  scrap  than  I,  even  if  he  did  look 
like  a  job  for  the  undertaker.  That  fellow  travels  on  the 
strength  of  his  belly  and  not  the  strength'  of  his  heart." 

"  So  you  say,"  observed  Pike,  grinning,  "but  then  again 
there  are  others  of  us  who  travel  on  nerve  and  gall  and 
never  get  any  further !  Just  put  this  in  your  pipe,  Bub, 
and  don't  forget  it:  Conrad  is  organised  for  whatever 
deviltry  he  is  up  to!  There  is  no  'happen  so'  in  his 
schemes.  He  is  a  cog  in  some  political  wheel,  and  it's  a 
fifty-fifty  gamble  as  to  whether  the  wheel  is  German  or 
Mexican,  but  it  is  no  little  thing,  and  is  not  to  be  de 
spised." 

"  But  I  can't  see  how  Singleton,  if  Singleton  is  square 
even " 

"  Singleton  is  a  narrow  gauge  disciple  of  Universal 


IN  THE  ADOBE  OF  PEDRO  VIJIL  69 

Peace  by  decree — which,  translated,  means  plain  damn 
fool.  Lord,  boy,  if  a  pack  of  prairie  wolves  had  a  man 
surrounded,  would  he  fold  his  hands  with  the  hope  that 
his  peaceful  attitude  would  appeal  to  their  better  instincts 
or  would  he  reach  for  a  gun  and  give  them  protective 
pills?  The  man  of  sense  never  goes  without  his  gun  in 
wolf  land,  but  Singleton  —  well,  in  peace  times  he  could 
have  lived  a  long  lifetime,  and  no  one  ever  guessed  what 
a  weak  sister  he  was,  but  he's  sure  out  of  place  on  the 
border." 

"I'm  tired  wearing  this  halo,"  observed  Rhodes,  re 
ferring  to  the  white  handkerchief  around  his  head.  "  Also 
some  of  the  dope  you  gave  me  seems  to  be  evaporating 
from  my  system,  and  I  feel  like  hitting  the  Piman  breeze. 
Can  we  strike  trail  tomorrow  ?  " 

"We  cannot.  Dona  Luz  has  been  dosing  out  the 
dope  for  you  —  Mexican  women  are  natural  doctors  with 
their  own  sort  of  herbs  —  and  she  says  three  days  before 
you  go  in  the  sun.  I've  a  notion  she  sort  of  let  the  Mexi 
cans  think  that  you  were  likely  to  cash  in,  and  you  bled 
so  like  a  stuck  pig  that  it  was  easy  enough  to  believe  the 


worst." 


"  Perhaps  that's  why  Conrad  felt  safe  in  leaving  me 
outside  of  jail.  With  Dona  Luz  as  doctor,  and  a  non- 
professional  like  you  as  assistant,  I  reckon  he  thought 
my  chance  of  surviving  that  monkey  wrench  assault  was 
slim,  mighty  slim ! " 

"Y — yes,"  agreed  Pike,  "under  ordinary  conditions 
he  might  have  been  justified  in  such  surmise,  but  that 
would  be  figuring  on  the  normal  thickness  of  the  normal 
civilized  skull,  but  yours  —  why,  Bub,  all  I'm  puzzling 


70 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

over  now  is  how  it  happens  that  the  monkey  wrench  was 
only  twisted  a  mite,  not  broke  at  all ! " 

"  You  scandalous  old  varmint ! "  grinned  Kit.  "  Go  on 
with  your  weak-minded  amusements,  taking  advantage 
of  a  poor  lone  cripple,  —  refused  by  the  army,  and  a  vic- 
.  'tim  of  the  latest  German  atrocity!  I  suppose  —  I  suppose," 
—  he  continued  darkly,  "  everyone  on  and  around  Grana- 
dos  agrees  that  I  was  the  villain  in  the  assault  ?  " 

"I  couldn't  say  as  to  that,"  returned  Pike  judicially. 
"Dona  Luz  would  dose  you,  and  plaster  you,  just  the 
same  if  you  had  killed  a  half  dozen  instead  of  knocking 
the  wind  out  of  one.  She's  pretty  fine  and  all  woman, 
but  naturally  since  they  regard  you  as  my  companero  they 
are  shy  about  expressing  themselves  when  I'm  around  — 
all  except  Singleton  —  and  you  heard  him." 

"  Good  and  plenty,"  agreed  Kit.  "  Say,  I'm  going  to 
catch  up  on  sleep  while  I've  a  chance,  and  you  rustle 
along  and  get  any  tag  ends  of  things  needed  for  the  trail. 
I'm  going  to  strike  for  Mesa  Blanca,  as  that  will  take  us 
up  into  the  country  of  that  Alisal  mine.  If  we  go  broke 
there  is  Mesa  Blanca  ranch  work  to  fall  back  on  for  a 
grub  stake,  but  from  what  I  hear  we  can  dry  wash  enough 
to  buy  corn  and  flour,  and  the  hills  are  full  of  burro  meat. 
We'll  browse  around  until  we  either  strike  it  rich,  or  get 
fed  up  with  trying.  Anyway,  Companero,  we  will  be  in 
a  quiet,  peaceful  pastoral  land,  close  to  nature,  and  out 
of  reach  of  Teuton  guile  and  monkey  wrenches.  B*uenas 
noches,  senor.  I'm  asleep ! " 

Pike  closed  the  door,  and  went  from  the  semi-dark  of 
the  adobe  out  into  the  brilliant  sunshine  where  Billie, 
with  a!  basket,  was  waiting  under  the  ramada  with 


IN  THE  ADOBE  OF  PEDRO  VIJIL  71 

Merced,  and  Merced  looked  gloomy  lest  Pedro  should  be 
blamed  by  Sefior  Singleton  for  practically  turning  his 
family  out  of  the  adobe  that  it  might  be  given  over  to 
the  loco  Americano. 

"  Tomorrow,  can  he  go  ?  "  she  asked  hopefully.  "  Me, 
I  have  a  fear.  Not  before  is  the  adobe  here  watched  by 
hidden  men  at  night,  and  that  is  very  bad !  Because  that 
he  is  friend  to  you  I  say  to  everybody  that  I  think  the 
Americano  is  dying  in  our  house,  but  today  he  talks, 
also  he  is  laughing.  No  more  sick  ?  " 

"  No  more  sick,  sure  not,  but  it  will  be  one  more  day. 
A  man  does  not  bleed  like  a  gored  bull  and  ride  the  next 
day  under  a  sky  hot  enough  to  fry  eggs.  The  tea  of 
Doiia  Luz  drove  off  the  fever,  and  he  only  sleeps  and 
talks,  and  sleeps  again,  but  sick  ?  Not  a  bit ! " 

"Nor  —  nor  sorry,  I  reckon?"  ventured  Billie. 

"  Why,  no  child,  not  that  I  could  notice.  That  scala 
wag  doesn't  seem  to  have  much  conscience  concerning  his 
behavior." 

"  Or  his  language ! "  she  added. 

"Sure,  that  was  some  invocation  he  offered  up!  But 
just  between  pals,  Billie,  you  ought  to  have  been  in  hear 
ing." 

"I  —  I  don't  suppose  he  even  remembers  that  I  was," 
she  remarked,  and  then  after  a  silence,  "or  —  or  even 
mentioned  —  us?" 

"  Why,  no,  Billie.  You  made  the  right  guess  when  you 
sized  him  up  and  thought  he  couldn't  hold  the  job.  He 
certainly  doesn't  belong,  Billie,  for  this  ranch  is  the  hom 
ing  nest  of  the  peace  doves,  and  he's  just  an  ungainly 
young  game  rooster  starting  out  with  a  dare  against  the 


72  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

world,  and  only  himself  for  a  backer.  Honest,  —  if  that 
misguided  youth  had  been  landed  in  jail,  I  don't  reckon 
there's  anyone  in  Arizona  with  little  enough  sense  to  bail 
him  out" 

"Likely  not,"  said  Billie.     "Well,  there's  the  basket 
from  Tia  Luz,  and  I  might  as  well  go  home." 


CHAPTER  V 

AN   "ADIOS" AND  AFTER 

TWO  days  later  in  the  blue  clear  air  of  the  Arizona 
morning  a  sage  hen  slipped  with  her  young  through 
the  coarse  grass  by  the  irrigation  ditch,  and  a  flock  of 
quail  raised  and  fluttered  before  the  quick  rhythmic  beat 
of  a  loping  horse  along  the  trail  in  the  mesquite  thicket. 

The  slender  gallant  figure  of  his  rider  leaned  forward 
looking,  listening  at  every  turn,  and  at  the  forks  of  the 
trail  where  a  clump  of  squat  mesquite  and  giant  sahuarro 
made  a  screen,  she  checked  the  horse,  and  held  her  breath. 

"Good  Pat,  good  horse!"  she  whispered.  "They've 
got  nothing  that  can  run  away  from  us.  We'll  show 
them!" 

Then  a  man's  quavering  old  voice  came  to  her  through 
the  winding  trail  of  the  arroya.  It  was  lifted  tunefully 
insistent  in  an  old-time  song  of  the  mining  camps : 

Oh,  Mexico!  we're  coming,  Mexico! 

Our  six  mule  team, 

Will  soon  be  seen, 

On  the  trail  to  Mexico! 

"We  made  it,  Pat,!"  confided  the  girl  grimly.  "We 
made  it.  Quiet  now  —  quiet!" 

73 


74  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

She  peered  out  through  the  green  mesquite  as  Captain 
Pike  emerged  from  the  west  arroya  on  a  gray  burro, 
herding  two  other  pack  animals  ahead  of  him  into  the 
south  trail. 

He  rode  jauntily,  his  old  sombrero  at  a  rakish  angle, 
his  eyes  bright  with  enthusiasm  supplied  by  that  which 
he  designated  as  a  morning  "bracer,"  and  his  long  gray 
locks  bobbed  in  the  breeze  as  he  swayed  in  the  saddle  and 
droned  his  cheerful  epic  of  the  trail : 

A  —  and  when  we've  been  there  long  enough, 

And  back  we  wish  to  go, 

We'll  fill  our  pockets  with  the  shining  dust 

And  then  leave  Mexico! 

Oh — Mexico! 

Good-bye  my  Mexico! 

Our  six  mule  team  will  then  be  seen 

On  the  trail  from  Mexico. 

"Hi  there!  you  Balaam — get  into  the  road  and  keep 
a-going,  you  ornery  little  rat-tailed  son-of-a-gun !  Pick 
up  your  feet  and  travel,  or  I'll  yank  out  your  back  bone 
and  make  a  quirt  out  of  it!  For " 

My  name  was  Captain  Kidd  as  I  sailed 

As  I  sailed, 
My  name  was  Captain  Kidd, 

As  I  sailed! 

My  name  was  Captain  Kidd 
And  most  ivickedly  I  di-i-id 
All  holy  laws  forbid 

As  I  sailed! 


AN  "ADIOS"  —  AND  AFTER  75 

The  confessor  of  superlative  wickedness  droned  his 
avowal  in  diminishing  volume  as  the  burros  pattered 
along  the  white  dust  of  the  valley  road,  then  the  curve 
to  the  west  hid  them,  and  all  was  silence  but  for  the  rustle 
of  the  wind  in  the  mesquite  and  the  far  bay  of  Single 
ton's  hounds  circling  a  coyote. 

But  Pat  pricked  up  his  ears,  and  lifted  his  head  as  if 
feeling  rather  than  hearing  the  growing  thud  of  coming 
hoofs.  The  girl  waited  until  they  were  within  fifty  feet, 
when  she  pursed  up  her  lips  and  whistled  the  call  of  the 
meadow  lark.  It  sounded  like  a  fairy  bugle  call  across 
the  morning,  and  the  roan  was  halted  quickly  at  the 
forks  of  the  road. 

"Howdy,  sefiorita?"  he  called  softly.  "I  can't  see 
you,  but  your  song  beats  the  birds.  Got  a  flag  of  truce? 
Willing  to  parley  with  the  enemy?" 

Then  she  emerged,  eyeing  him  sulkily. 

"You  were  going  without  seeing  me!"  she  stated  with 
directness,  and  without  notice  of  the  quizzical  smile  of 
comradeship. 

"Certainly  was,"  he  agreed.  "When  I  got  through 
the  scrap  with  your  disciple  of  kultur,  my  mug  didn't 
strike  me  as  the  right  decoration  for  a  maiden's  bower. 
I  rode  out  of  the  scrap  with  my  scratches,  taking  joy 
and  comfort  in  the  fact  that  he  had  to  be  carried." 

"  There  was  no  reason  for  your  being  so  —  so  brutal ! " 
she  decided  austerely. 

"Lord  love  you,  child,  I  didn't  need  a  reason  —  I  only 
wanted  an  excuse.  Give  me  credit!  I  got  away  for 
fear  I'd  go  loco  and  smash  Singleton  for  interfering." 

"  Papa  Phil  only  did  his  duty,  standing  for  peace." 


76  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

"  Huh,  let  the  Neutral  League  do  it !  The  trouble  with 
Singleton  is  he  hasn't  brains  enough  to  lubricate  a  balance 
wheel,  —  he  can't  savvy  a  situation  unless  he  has  it  printed 
in  a  large-type  tract.  Conrad  was  scared  for  fear  I'd 
stumbled  on  a  crooked  trail  of  his  and  would  tell  the 
boss,  so  he  beat  me  to  it  with  the  lurid  report  that  I 
made  an  assault  on  him!  This  looks  like  it — not!" 
and  he  showed  the  slashes  in  his  sombrero  to  make  room 
for  the  blue  banda  around  his  head.  "  Suppose  you  tell 
that  Hun  of  yours  to  carry  a  gun  like  a  real  hombre  in 
stead  of  the  tools  of  a  second-story  man.  The  neighbors 
could  hear  a  gun,  and  run  to  my  rescue." 

The  girl  regarded  his  flippancy  with  disapproval. 

"He  isn't  my  Hun,"  she  retorted.  "I  could  worry 
along  without  him  on  our  map,  —  but  after  all,  I  don't 
know  a  single  definite  thing  against  him.  Anyway,  it's 
decided  I've  got  to  go  away  somewhere  to  school  and  be 
out  of  the  ranch  squabbles.  Papa  Phil  thinks  I  get  in 
bad  company  out  here." 

"Meaning  me?" 

"Well,  he  said  Captain  Pike  was  demoralizing  to  the 
youthful  mind.  He  didn't  mention  you.  And  Cap  cer 
tainly  did  go  the  limit  yesterday !  " 

"How  so?" 

"  Well,  he  went  to  the  Junction  for  his  outfit  stuff " 

"Yes,  and  never  showed  up  at  the  adobe  until  the 
morning  star  was  in  the  sky ! " 

"I  know,"  she  confessed.  "I  went  with  him.  We 
stayed  to  see  a  Hart  picture  at  the  theater,  and  had  the 
time  of  our  young  lives.  At  supper  I  announced  that  I 
was  going  to  adopt  Cap  as  a  grandfather,  —  and  then  of 


'You  poor  kid,  you  have  a  hard  time  with  the 
disreputables  you  pick  up." 


AN  "ADIOS"  —  AND  AFTER 77 

course  he  had  to  go  and  queer  me  by  filling  up  on  some 
rank  whiskey  he  had  smuggled  in  with  the  other  food! 
My  stars !  —  he  was  put  to  bed  singing  that  he'd '  Hang  his 
harp  on  a  willow  tree,  and  be  off  to  the  wars  again'  — 
You  needn't  laugh ! " 

But  he  did  laugh,  his  blue  eyes  twinkling  at  her  re 
cital. 

"  You  poor  kid !  You  have  a  hard  time  with  the  dis 
reputables  you  pick  up.  Sure  they  didn't  warn  you 
against  speaking  to  this  reprobate?" 

"  Sure  nothing ! "  was  the  boyish  reply.  "  I  was  to  be 
docked  a  month's  spending  money  if  I  dared  go  near 
Pedro  Vijil's  adobe  again  while  you  were  there,  which 
was  very  foolish  of  Papa  Phil!"  she  added  judicially. 
"  I  reckon  he  forgot  they  tried  that  before." 

"And  what  happened?" 

"  I  went  down  and  borrowed  double  the  amount  from 
old  Estevan,  the  trader  at  the  Junction,  and  gave  him  an 
order  against  the  ranch.  Then  Cap  and  I  sneaked  out 
a  couple  of  three-year-olds  and  raced  them  down  in  the 
cottonwood  flats  against  some  colts  brought  down  by  an 
old  Sierra  Blanca  Apache.  We  backed  our  nags  with 
every  peso,  and  that  old  brown  murderer  won !  But  Cap 
and  I  had  a  wonderful  day  while  our  coin  lasted,  and  — 
and  you  were  going  away  without  saying  good-bye ! " 

Kit  Rhodes,  who  had  blankly  stated  that  he  owned  his 
horse  and  saddle  and  little  beyond,  looked  at  the  spoiled 
plucky  heiress  of  Granados  ranches,  and  the  laughter 
went  out  of  his  eyes. 

She  was  beyond  reason  loveable  even  in  her  boyish 
disdain  of  restriction,  and  some  day  she  would  come 


78 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

back  from  the  schools  a  very  finished  product,  and  thank 
the  powers  that  be  for  having  sent  her  out  of  knowledge 
of  happy-go-lucky  chums  of  the  ranges. 

Granados  ranches  had  been  originally  an  old  Span 
ish  grant  reaching  from  a  branch  of  the  intermittent  Rio 
Altar  north  into  what  is  now  Arizona,  and  originally 
was  about  double  the  size  of  Rhode  Island.  It  was 
roughly  divided  into  the  home  or  hacienda  ranch  in 
Arizona,  and  La  Partida,  the  cattle  range  portion,  reach 
ing  far  south  into  Sonora.  Even  the  remnant  of  the 
grant,  if  intelligently  managed,  would  earn  an  income 
satisfactory  for  a  most  extravagant  princess  royal  such 
as  its  present  chatelaine  seemed  to  Rhodes. 

But  he  had  noted  dubiously  that  the  management  was 
neither  intelligent  nor,  he  feared,  square.  The  little 
rancherias  scattered  over  it  in  the  fertile  valleys,  were 
worked  on  the  scratch  gravel,  ineffective  Mexic  method 
by  the  Juans  and  Pedros  whose  family  could  always 
count  on  mesquite  beans,  and  camotes  if  the  fields  failed. 
There  was  seed  to  buy  each  year  instead  of  raising  it. 
There  was  money  invested  in  farming  machinery,  and  a 
bolt  taken  at  will  from  a  thresher  to  mend  a  plow  or 
a  buggy  as  temporarily  required.  The  flocks  of  sheep  on 
the  Arizona  hills  were  low  grade.  The  cattle  and  horse 
outfits  were  south  in  La  Partida,  and  the  leakage  was 
beyond  reason,  even  in  a  danger  zone  of  the  border  land. 

All  this  Kit  had  milled  around  and  around  many  times 
in  the  brief  while  he  had  ranged  La  Partida.  A  new  deal 
was  needed  and  needed  badly,  else  Wilfreda  Bernard 
would  have  debts  instead  of  revenue  if  Singleton  let 
things  drift  much  longer.  Her  impish  jest  that  she  was 


AN  "ADIOS"  —  AND  AFTER  79 

a  damsel  in  distress  in  need  of  a  valiant  Joiight  was 
nearer  to  truth  than  she  suspected.  He  had  an  idiotic 
hungry  desire  to  be  that  knight,  but  his  equipment  of  one 
horse,  one  saddle,  and  one  sore  head  appeared  inade 
quate  for  the  office. 

Thus  Kit  Rhodes  sat  his  horse  and  looked  at  her,  and 
saw  things  other  than  the  red  lips  of  the  girl,  and  the 
chiding  gray  eyes,  and  the  frank  regret  at  his  going. 

It  was  more  profitable  not  to  see  that  regret,  or  let  it 
thrill  a  man  in  that  sweet  warm  way,  especially  not  if  the 
man  chanced  to  be  a  drifting  ranger.  She  was  only  a 
gallant  little  girl  with  a  genius  for  friendships,  and  her 
loyalty  to  Pike  extended  to  Pike's  chum  —  that  was  what 
Rhodes  told  himself ! 

"  Yes,"  he  agreed,  "  I  was  going  without  any  tooting 
of  horns.  No  use  in  Cap  Pike  and  me  hanging  around, 
and  getting  you  in  bad  with  your  outfit" 

"As  if  I  care!"  she  retorted. 

"  You  might  some  day,"  he  said  quietly.  "  School  may 
make  a  lot  of  difference;  that,  and  changed  surroundings 
for  a  year  or  two.  But  some  day  you  will  be  your  own 
manager,  and  if  I'm  still  on  the  footstool  and  can  be  of 
service  —  just  whistle,  sefiorita." 

"  Sure ! "  she  agreed  cheerfully.  "  I'll  whistle  the  lark 
call,  and  you'll  know  I  need  you,  so  that's  settled,  and 
we'll  always  be  —  be  friends,  Trail-hunter." 

"  We'll  always  be  friends,  Lark-child." 

"I  wanted  Cap  Pike  to  let  me  in  on  this  prospecting 
trip,  wanted  to  put  in  money,"  she  said  rather  hesitant, 
"and  he  turned  me  down  cold,  except  for  a  measly  ten 
dollars,  'smoke  money'  he  called  it.  I  reckon  he  only 


80  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

took  that  to  get  rid  of  me,  which  I  don't  call  friendly, 
do  you?  And  if  things  should  go  crooked  with  him, 
and  he  —  well  —  sort  of  needs  help  to  get  out,  you'll  let 
me  know,  won't  you  ? " 

"Yes,  if  it  seems  best,"  he  agreed,  "but  you  won't 
be  here;  you'll  be  shipped  to  a  school,  pronto!" 

"  I  won't  be  so  far  off  the  map  that  a  letter  can't  reach 
me.  Cap  Pike  won't  ever  write,  but  I  thought  maybe 
you " 

"Sure,"  agreed  Rhodes  easily.  "We'll  send  out  a 
long  yell  for  help  whenever  we  get  stuck." 

She  eyed  him  darkly  and  without  faith. 

"Wish  I  knew  how  to  make  that  certain,"  she  con 
fessed.  "  You're  only  dodging  me  with  any  kind  of  a 
promise  to  keep  me  quiet,  just  as  Cap  did.  I  know !  I'm 
jealous,  too,  because  you're  taking  a  trail  I've  always 
wanted  to  take  with  Cap,  and  they  won't  let  me  because 
I'm  a  girl." 

"  Cheer  up !  When  you  are  boss  of  the  range  you  can 
outfit  any  little  pasear  you  want  to  take,  but  you  and  I 
won't  be  in  the  same  class  then,  Lark-child." 

"  Are  you  really  going  it  blind,  trailing  with  Cap  into 
the  Painted  Hills  after  that  fascinating  gold  legend?" 
she  demanded.  "Or  have  you  some  inside  trail  blazed 
for  yourself  ?  Daddy  Pike  is  the  best  ever,  but  he  always 
goes  broke,  and  if  he  isn't  broke,  he  has  a  jug  at  his 
saddle  horn,  so " 

"  Oh  it's  only  a  little  jug  this  time,  and  he's  had  a  f are- 
you-well  drink  out  of  it  with  everyone  in  sight,  so  there's 
only  one  hilarious  evening  left  in  the  jug  now.  Just 
enough  for  a  gladsome  memory  of  civilization." 


AN  "ADIOS"  —  AND  AFTER  81 

"  Are  you  in  deep  on  this  prospect  plan  ?  "  she  persisted. 

"Well,  not  that  you  could  notice.  That  is,  I've  got  a 
three  months'  job  offered  me  down  at  Whitely's ;  that  will 
serve  the  captain  as  headquarters  to  range  from  until 
we  add  to  our  stake.  Whitely  is  rounding  up  stock  for 
the  Allies  down  Mesa  Blanca  way,  and  Pike  will  feel  at 
home  there.  Don't  you  worry,  I'll  keep  an  eye  on  Pike. 
He  is  hilariously  happy  to  get  into  that  region  with  a 
partner." 

"  I  don't  like  it,"  she  grumbled  at  him  with  sulky  gray 
eyes.  "Pedro  Vijil  just  came  back  from  the  south,  and 
brought  his  sister's  family  from  San  Rafael.  They're 
refugees  from  the  Federals  because  their  men  joined 
Ramon  Rotil,  the  rebel  leader,  and  Merced  is  crying  her 
self  crazy  over  the  tales  of  war  they  tell.  One  of  their 
girls  was  stolen,  and  the  mother  and  Tia  Luz  are  both 
crying  over  that.  So  Papa  Phil  says  he's  going  to  send 
me  away  where  I  wpn't  hear  such  horrors.  I  wish  I  was 
a  man,  and  I'd  join  the  army  and  get  a  chance  to  go  over 
and  fight." 

"Huh!"  grunted  Rhodes  skeptically,  "some  more  of 
us  had  hopes!  Our  army  officers  are  both  praying  and 
cursing  to  get  a  chance  to  .do  the  same  thing,  but  they 
are  not  getting  it !  So  you  and.  I,  little  girl,  will  wait  till 
some  one  pitches  a  bomb  into  that  dovery  on  the  Potomac. 
Then  we'll  join  the  volunteers  and  swarm  over  after  our 
people." 

"  Oh,  yes,  you  can !  Men  can  do  anything  they  like.  I 
told  you  I  was  jealous." 

"  Never  mind,  Lark-child,"  he  returned  soothingly. 
"  If  I  get  over  with  a  gun,  you  can  come  along  and  toot 


82 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

a  horn.  There  now,  that's  a  bargain,  and  you  can  prac 
tice  tooting  the  lark's  call  until  the  time  comes." 

"  I  reckon  I'll  have  plenty  of  time  to  toot  myself  black 
in  the  face  before  you  show  up  again  at  Granados,"  she 
prophesied  ruefully,  and  he  laughed.  . 

"Whistle  an'  I'll  come  to  you,  Lassie,"  he  said  with 
sudden  recklessness,  "and  that's  for  adios,  Billie." 

He  held  out  his  hand. 

"That's  enough,  Rhodes/'  said  a  voice  back  of  them, 
and  Singleton  walked  forward.  "When  you  got  your 
time,  you  were  supposed  to  leave  Granados.  Is  this  what 
you've  been  hanging  around  for  during  the  past  week?" 

Rhodes  flamed  red  to  his  hair  as  he  stared  down  at 
the  elder  man. 

"I  reckon  I'll  not  answer  that  now,  Mr.  Singleton," 
he  said  quietly.  "  You  may  live  to  see  you  made  a  mis 
take.  I  hope  you  do,  but  you're  traveling  with  a  rotten 
bunch,  and  they  are  likely  to  use  a  knife  or  a  rope  on 
you  any  time  you've  played  the  goat  long  enough  for 
them  to  get  their  innings.  I'm  going  without  any  grudge, 
but  if  I  was  an  insurance  agent,  trying  to  save  money  for 
my  company,  I'd  sure  pass  you  by  as  an  unsafe  bet! 
Keep  on  this  side  of  the  line,  Singleton,  while  the  revo 
lution  is  whirling,  and  whatever  you  forget,  don't  forget 
I  said  it!  Adios,  senorita,  and  —  good  luck!" 

"Good  luck,  Kit,"  she  half  whispered,  "and  adios!" 

She  watched  him  as  he  rode  away,  watched  him  as  he 
halted  at  the  turn  of  the  trail  and  waved  his  hand,  and 
Singleton  was  quietly  observing  her  the  while.  She 
frowned  as  she  turned  and  caught  him  at  it. 

"You  thought  he  waited  here,   or  planned  to  —  to 


AN  "ADIOS"  —  AND  AFTER  83 

meet  me,"  she  flared.  "  He  was  too  square  to  tell  you 
the  truth,  but  it  was  I  rode  out  here  to  say  good-bye,  rode 
out  and  held  him  up !  But  I  did  not  reckon  anyone  would 
try  to  insult  him  for  it ! " 

Her  stepfather  regarded  her  grimly.  She  was  angry, 
and  very  near  to  tears. 

"Time  you  had  your  breakfast,"  he  observed,  "and 
all  signs  indicate  I  should  have  sent  you  East  last  year, 
and  kept  you  out  of  the  promiscuous  mixups  along  the 
border.  It's  the  dumping  ground  for  all  sorts  of  stray 
adventurers,  and  no  place  for  a  girl  to  ride  alone." 

"  He  seemed  to  think  I  am  as  able  to  look  after  myself 
as  you,"  she  retorted.  "You  aren't  fair  to  him  because 
you  take  the  word  of  Conrad,  but  Conrad  lies,  and  I'm 
glad  he  got  thrashed  good  and  plenty!  Now  I've  got 
that  off  my  mind,  I'll  go  eat  a  cheerful  breakfast." 

Singleton  walked  silent  beside  her  back  to  where  his 
horse  was  grazing  by  the  roadside. 

"  Huh ! "  grunted  the  girl  with  frank  scorn.  "  So  you 
got  out  of  the  saddle  to  spy?  Haven't  you  some  black- 
and-tan  around  the  ranch  to  do  your  dirty  work  ?  " 

"It's  just  as  well  to  be  civil  till  you  know  what  you 
are  talking  about,"  he  reminded  her  with  a  sort  of 
trained  patience.  "  I  came  out  without  my  breakfast  just 
to  keep  the  ranchmen  from  thinking  what  Tia  Luz  thinks. 
She  told  me  I'd  find  that  fellow  waiting  for  you.  I  didn't 
believe  it,  but  I  see  she  is  not  so  far  wrong." 

He  spoke  without  heat  or  feeling,  and  his  tone  was 
that  of  quiet  discussion  with  a  man  or  boy,  not  at  all 
that  of  a  guardian  to  a  girl.  His  charge  was  evidently 
akin  to  the  horse  ranch  of  Granados  as  described  by  the 


84 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

old  ranger:  Singleton  had  acquired  them,  but  never  un 
derstood  them. 

"  Look  here,"  said  his  protegee  with  boyish  roughness, 
"  that  Dutchman  sees  everything  crooked,  especially  if 
there's  an  American  in  range,  and  he  prejudices  you. 
Why  don't  you  wake  up  long  enough  to  notice  that  he's 
framing  some  excuse  to  run  off  every  decent  chap  who 
comes  on  the  place  ?  I  knew  Rhodes  was  too  white  to  be 
let  stay.  I  saw  that  as  soon  as  he  landed,  and  I  told 
him  so !  What  I  can't  understand  is  that  you  won't 
see  it." 

"  A  manager  has  to  have  a  free  hand,  Billie,  or  else  be 
let  go,"  explained  Singleton.  "  Conrad  knows  horses,  he 
knows  the  market,  and  is  at  home  with  the  Mexicans. 
Also  he  costs  less  than  we  used  to  pay,  and  that  is  an  item 
in  a  bad  year." 

"  I'll  bet  we  lose  enough  cattle  to  his  friends  to  make 
up  the  difference,"  she  persisted.  "  Rhodes  was  right 
when  he  called  them  a  rotten  bunch." 

"Let  us  hope  that  when  you  return  from  school  you 
will  have  lost  the  major  portion  of  your  unsavory  vocabu 
lary,"  he  suggested.  "That  will  be  worth  a  herd  of 
cattle." 

"  It  would  be  worth  another  herd  to  see  you  wake  up 
and  show  you  had  one  good  fight  in  you ! "  she  retorted. 
"  Conrad  has  all  of  the  ranch  outfit  locoed  but  me ;  that's 
why  he  passes  on  this  school  notion  to  you.  He  wants 
me  out  of  sight." 

"I  should  have  been  more  decided,  and  insisted  that 
you  go  last  year.  Heaven  knows  you  need  it  badly 
enough,"  sighed  Singleton,  ignoring  her  disparaging  com- 


AN  "ADIOS"  —  AND  AFTER  85 

ment  on  his  own  shortcomings.  And  then  as  they  rode 
under  the  swaying  fronds  of  the  palm  drive  leading  to 
the  ranch  house  he  added,  "  Those  words  of  your  bronco 
busting  friend  concerning  the  life  insurance  risk  sounded 
like  a  threat.  I  wonder  what  he  meant  by  it?  " 

The  telephone  bell  on  the  Granados  Junction  line  was 
ringing  when  they  entered  the  patio.  Singleton  glanced 
at  the  clock. 

"  A  night  letter  probably/'  he  remarked.  "  Go  get  your 
coffee,  child,  it's  a  late  hour  for  breakfast" 

Billie  obeyed,  sulkily  seating  herself  opposite  Tia  Luz 
—  who  was  bolt  upright  behind  the  coffee  urn,  with  a 
mien  expressing  dignified  disapproval.  She  inhaled  a 
deep  breath  for  forceful  speech,  but  Billie  was  ahead  of 
her. 

"  So  it  was  you !  You  were  the  spy,  and  sent  him  after 
me!" 

" Madre  de  Dios!  and  why  not?"  demanded  the  com 
petent  Luz.  "  You  stealing  your  own  horse  at  the  dawn  to 
go  with  the  old  Captain  Pike.  I  ask  of  you  what  kind  of 
a  girl  is  that?  Also  Mercedes  was  here  last  night  tearing 
her  hair  because  of  the  girls,  her  sister's  daughters,  stolen 
away  over  there  in  Sonora.  Well !  is  that  not  enough  ? 
That  Senor  Kit  is  also  too  handsome.  I  was  a  fool  to 
send  the  medicine  with  you  to  Pedro's  house.  He  looked 
a  fine  caballero  but  even  a  fine  caballero  will  take  a  girl 
when  she  follows  after.  7  know!  And  once  in  Sonora 
all  trails  of  a  girl  are  lost.  I  know  that  too ! " 

"You  are  all  crazy,  and  I  never  saw  him  at  Pedro's 
house,  never ! "  said  the  girl  reaching  for  her  coffee,  and 
then  suddenly  she  began  to  laugh.  "  Did  you  think,  did 


86 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

you  make  Papa  Philip  think,  that  I  was  eloping  like 
this?"  and  she  glanced  down  at  her  denim  riding  dress. 

"And  why  not?  Did  I  myself  not  steal  out  in  a  shift 
and  petticoat  the  first  time  I  tried  to  run  away  with  my 
Andreas?  And  beyond  that  not  a  thing  under  God  had 
I  on  but  my  coral  beads,  and  the  red  satin  slippers  of  my 
sister  Dorotea!  She  pulled  my  hair  wickedly  for  those 
slippers,  and  I  got  a  reata  on  my  back  from  my  grand 
mother  for  that  running  away.  I  was  thirteen  years  old 
then !  But  when  I  was  nearly  sixteen  we  did  get  away, 
Andreas  and  I,  and  after  that  it  was  as  well  for  the  grand 
mother  to  pay  a  priest  for  us,  and  let  us  alone.  Ai-ji! 
sefiorita,  I  am  not  forgetting  what  I  know !  And  while  I 
am  here  in  Granados  there  must  be  nothing  less  than  a 
grand  marriage,  and  may  the  saints  send  the  right  man, 
for  a  wrong  one  makes  hell  in  any  house ! " 

Billie  forgot  her  sulkiness  in  her  joy  at  the  elopements 
of  Tia  Luz.  No  wonder  she  distrusted  an  American  girl 
who  was  allowed  to  ride  alone ! 

But  in  the  midst  of  her  laughter  she  was  reminded  that 
Singleton  was  still  detained  at  the  telephone  in  the  ad 
joining  room,  and  that  his  rather  high-pitched  tones 
betrayed  irritation. 

"Well,  why  can't  you  give  the  telegram  to  me?  Ad 
dressed  to  Conrad?  Of  course  if  it's  a  personal  message 
I  don't  want  it,  but  you  say  it  is  a  ranch  matter  —  and 
irpportant.  Horses  ?  What  about  them  ?  " 

Billie,  listening,  sped  from  the  table  to  his  side,  and 
putting  her  hand  over  the  telephone,  whispered : 

"If  Brehman,  the  secretary,  was  here,  they'd  give  it  to 
him.  They  always  do.^ 


AN  "ADIOS"  — AND  AFTER  87 

Singleton  nodded  to  her,  and  grew  decided. 

"See  here,  Webster,  one  of  our  men  was  hurt,  and 
Brehman  took  his  place  and  went  East  with  that  horse 
shipment.  Mr.  Conrad  had  to  go  down  in  Sonora  on 
business,  and  I  am  the  only  one  here  to  take  his  place. 
Just  give  me  the  message  as  you  would  give  it  to  the 
secretary.  But  you'd  better  type  a  copy  and  send  by  mail 
that  I  can  put  it  on  file.  All  right  ?  Yes,  go  ahead/' 

Billie  had  quickly  secured  paper  and  pencil,  but  instead 
of  taking  them,  Singleton  motioned  for  her  to  write  the 
message. 

Adolf  Conrad,  Granados  Ranch,  Granados  Junction,  Ari 
zona.  Regret  to  report  September  shipment  horses  devel 
oped  ailment  aboard  vessel,  fifty  per  cent  dead,  balance 
probably  of  no  military  use,  OGDEN,  BURNS  &  Co. 

Word  by  word  Singleton  took  the  message  and  word 
by  word  Billie  wrote  it  down,  while  they  stared  at  each 
other. 

"Developed  ailment  aboard  vessel!"  repeated  Single 
ton.  "  Then  there  was  something  wrong  on  shipboard,  for 
there  certainly  is  not  here.  We  have  no  sick  horses  on 
the  ranch,  never  do  have!" 

"But  these  people?"  and  Billie  pointed  to  the  signa 
ture. 

"  Oh,  they  are  the  men  who  buy  stock  for  the  Allies, 
agents  for  the  French.  They  paid  for  the  horses  on  de 
livery.  They  are  safe,  substantial  people.  I  can't  under 
stand " 

But  Billie  caught  his  arm  with  a  gasp  of  horror  and 
enlightenment. 


88  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

"Papa  Phil!  Think  —  think  what  Kit  Rhodes  said! 
f  Ground  glass  in  the  feed  at  the  other  end  of  the  road! 
Conrad's  game — Herrara  knows! '  Papa  Phil,  —  Miguel 
Herrara  was  killed  —  killed!  And  Conrad  tried  to  kill 
Kit !  Oh  he  did,  he  did !  None  of  the  Mexicans  thought 
he  would  get  well,  but  Tia  Luz  cured  him.  And  Cap 
Pike  never  went  out  of  sight  of  that  adobe  until  Conrad 
had  left  the  ranch,  and  I  know  Kit  was  right.  I  know 
it,  I  know  it!  Oh,  my  horses,  my  beautiful  horses ! " 

"  There,  there !  Why,  child  you're  hysterical  over  this, 
which  is  —  is  too  preposterous  for  belief!" 

"  Nothing  is  too  preposterous  for  belief.  You  know 
that.  Everybody  knows  it  in  these  days !  Is  Belgium  too 
preposterous?  Is  that  record  of  poison  and  powdered 
glass  in  hospital  supplies  too  preposterous?  In  hospital 
supplies!  If  they  do  that  to  wounded  men,  why  not  to 
cavalry  horses?  Why  Papa  Phil " 

"Hush  —  hush  —  hush!"  he  said  pacing  the  floor, 
clasping  his  head  in  both  hands.  "It  is  too  terrible! 
What  can  we  do?  What?  Who  dare  we  trust  to  even 
help  investigate?" 

"Well,  you  might  wire  those  agents  for  particulars, 
this  is  rather  skimpy,"  suggested  Billie.  "  Come  and  get 
some  breakfast  and  think  it  over." 

"  I  might  wire  the  office  of  the  Peace  Society  in  New 
York  to " 

"  Don't  you  do  it ! "  protested  Billie.  "  They  may  have 
furnished  the  poison  for  all  you  know!  Cap  Pike  says 
they  are  a  lot  of  traitors,  and  Cap  is  wise  in  lots  of 
things.  You  telegraph,  and  you  tell  them  that  if  the 
sickness  is  proven  to  have  started  in  Granados,  that  we 


AN  "ADIOS"  — AND  AFTER  89 

will  pay  for  every  dead  horse,  tell  them  we  have  no  sick 
horses  here,  and  ask  them  to  answer,  pronto!" 

"  That  seems  rather  reckless,  child,  to  pay  for  all " 

"  I  am  reckless !  I  am  crazy  mad  over  those  horses, 
and  over  Conrad,  and  over  Kit  whom  he  tried  to  kill ! " 

"Tut  —  tut!  The  language  and  behavior  of  Rhodes 
was  too  wicked  for  anyone  to  believe  him  innocent.  He 
was  a  beastly  looking  object,  and  I  still  believe  him  en 
tirely  in  the  wrong.  This  loss  of  the  horses  is  deplorable, 
but  you  will  find  that  no  one  at  Granados  is  to  blame." 

"  Maybe  so,  but  you  just  send  that  telegram  and  see 
what  we  see!" 


B 


CHAPTER  VI 

A  DEAD  MAN  UNDER  THE  COTTONWOODS 

ILLIE  was  never  out  of  hearing  of  the  telephone  all 
day,  and  at  two  o'clock  the  reply  came. 

PHILIP  SINGLETON, 

Rancho  Granados,  Arizona. 

Kindly  wire  in  detail  the  source  of  your  information.  No 
message  went  to  Granados  from  this  office.  No  publicity 
has  been  given  to  the  dead  horse  situation.  Your  inquiry 
very  important  to  the  Department  of  Justice. 

OGDEN,  BURNS  &  Co. 

"Very  strange,  very!"  murmured  Singleton.  "No 
matter  how  hard  I  think,  or  from  what  angle,  I  can't 
account  for  it.  Billie,  this  is  too  intricate  for  me.  The 
best  thing  J  can  do  is  to  go  over  to  Nogales  and  talk  to 
an  attorney/' 

"  Go  ahead  and  talk,"  agreed  Billie,  "  but  I'd  answer 
that  telegram  first.  This  is  no  township  matter,  Papa 
Phil,  can't  you  see  that?" 

"Certainly,  certainly,  but  simply  because  of  that  fact 
I  feel  I  should  have  local  advice.  I  have  a  legal  friend 
in  Nogales.  If  I  could  get  him  on  the  wire " 

An  hour  later  when  Billie  returned  from  a  ride,  she 
realized  Singleton  had  gotten  his  friend  on  the  wire,  for 
she  heard  him  talking. 

90 


UNDER  THE  COTTONWQODS 91 

"  Yes,  this  is  Granados.  Is  that  you,  James  ?  Yes,  I 
asked  them  to  have  you  call  me.  I  need  to  consult  with 
you  concerning  a  rather  serious  matter.  Yes,  so  serious 
I  may  say  it  is  mysterious,  and  appalling.  It  concerns 
a  shipment  of  horses.  Conrad  is  in  Sonora,  and  this 
subject  can't  wait  —  no,  I  can't  get  in  touch  with  Conrad. 
He  is  out  of  communication  when  over  there —  No, 
I  can't  wait  his  return.  I've  had  a  wire  from  Ogden  and 
Burns,  New  York — said  Ogden  and  Burns —  All  right, 
get  a  pencil;  I'll  hold  the  wire," 

There  was  a  moment  of  silence,  and  if  a  telephonic 
camera  had  been  installed  at  Granados,  Mr.  Singleton 
might  have  caught  a  very  interesting  picture  at  the  other 
end  of  the  wire. 

A  middle-aged  man  in  rusty  black  of  semi-clerical  cut 
held  the  receiver,  and  the  effect  of  the  names  as  given  over 
the  wire  was,  to  put  it  mildly,  electrical.  His  jaw  dropped 
and  he  stared  across  the  table  at  a  man  who  was  seated 
there.  At  the  repetition  of  the  name,  the  other  arose,  and 
with  the  stealthily  secretive  movement  of  a  coyote  near 
its  prey  he  circled  the  table,  and  drew  a  chair  close  to  the 
telephone.  The  pencil  and  paper  was  in  his  hand,  not  in 
that  of  "James."  That  other  was  Conrad. 

Then  the  telephone  conversation  was  resumed  after 
Mr.  Singleton  had  been  requested  to  speak  a  little  louder 
—  there  seemed  some  flaw  in  the  connection. 

In  the  end  Singleton  appeared  much  comforted  to  get 
the  subject  off  his  own  shoulders  by  discussing  it  with 
another.  But  he  had  been  convinced  that  the  right  thing 
to  do  was  to  motor  over  to  the  Junction  and  take  the 
telegrams  with  him  for  consultation.  He  would  start 


92  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

about  eight  in  the  morning,  and  would  reach  the  railroad 
by  noon.  Yes,  by  taking  the  light  car  which  he  drove 
himself  it  would  be  an  easy  matter. 

Billie  heard  part  of  this  discourse  in  an  absent-minded 
way,  for  she  was  not  at  all  interested  as  to  what  some 
strange  lawyer  in  Nogales  might  think  of  the  curious 
telegrams. 

She  would  have  dropped  some  of  that  indifference  if 
she  had  been  able  to  hear  the  lurid  language  of  Conrad 
after  the  receiver  was  hung  up.  James  listened  to  him  in 
silence  for  a  bit,  and  then  said : 

"  It's  your  move,  brother !  There  are  not  supposed  to 
be  any  mistakes  in  the  game,  and  you  have  permitted  our 
people  to  wire  you  a  victory  when  you  were  not  there  to 
get  the  wire,  and  that  was  a  mistake." 

"But  Brehman  always " 

"You  sent  Brehman  East  and  for  once  forgot  what 
might  happen  with  your  office  empty.  No,  —  it  is  not 
Singleton's  fault;  he  did  the  natural  thing.  It  is  not  the 
operator's  fault ;  why  should  he  not  give  a  message  con 
cerning  horses  to  the  proprietor  of  the  horse  ranch  ?  " 

"  But  Singleton  never  before  made  a  move  in  anything 
of  management,  letters  never  opened,  telegrams  filed  but 
never  answers  sent  until  I  am  there!  And  this  time! 
It  is  that  most  cursed  Rhodes,  I  know  it  is  that  one! 
They  told  me  he  was  high  in  fever  and  growing  worse, 
and  luck  with  me!  So  you  yourself  know  the  necessity 
that  I  go  over  for  the  Sonora  conference  —  there  was  no 
other  way.  It  is  that  Rhodes !  Yes,  I  know  it,  and  they 
told  me  he  was  as  good  as  dead —  God!  if  again  I  get 
him  in  these  hands!" 


UNDER  THE  COTTONWOODS 93 

He  paced  the  floor  nervously,  and  flung  out  his  clenched 
hands  in  fury,  and  the  quiet  man  watched  him. 

"That  is  personal,  and  is  for  the  future,"  he  said,  "but 
Singleton  is  not  a  personal  matter.  If  he  lives  he  will 
be  influenced  to  investigation,  and  that  must  not  be.  It 
would  remove  you  from  Granados,  and  you  are  too  valu 
able  at  that  place.  You  must  hold  that  point  as  you  would 
hold  a  fort  against  the  enemy.  When  Mexico  joins  with 
Germany  against  the  damned  English  and  French,  this 
fool  mushroom  republic  will  protest,  and  that  is  the  time 
our  friends  will  sweep  over  from  Mexico  and  gather  in 
all  these  border  states  —  which  were  once  hers  —  and  will 
again  be  hers  through  the  strong  mailed  hand  of  Ger 
many!  This  is  written  and  will  be!  When  that  day 
comes,  we  need  such  points  of  vantage  as  Granados  and 
La  Partida ;  we  must  have  them !  You  have  endangered 
that  position,  and  the  mistake  won't  be  wiped  out.  The 
next  move  is  yours,  Conrad." 

The  quiet  man  in  the  habiliments  of  shabby  gentility 
in  that  bare  little  room  with  the  American  flag  over  the 
door  and  portraits  of  two  or  three  notable  advocates  of 
World  Peace  and  the  American  League  of  Neutrality  on 
the  wall,  had  all  the  outward  suggestion  of  the  small 
town  disciple  of  Socialism  from  the  orthodox  viewpoint. 
His  manner  was  carefully  restrained,  and  his  low  voice 
was  very  even,  but  at  his  last  words  Conrad  who  had 
dropped  into  a  seat,  his  head  in  his  hands,  suddenly  looked 
up,  questioning. 

"Singleton  can  probably  do  no  more  harm  today," 
went  on  the  quiet  voice.  "I  warned  him  it  would  be  a 
mistake  to  discuss  it  until  after  he  had  seen  me.  He 


94 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

starts  at  eight  in  the  morning,  alone,  for  the  railroad  but 
probably  will  not  reach  there."  He  looked  at  his  watch 
thoughtfully.  "  The  Tucson  train  leaves  in  fifty  minutes. 
You  can  get  that.  Stop  off  at  the  station  where  Breh- 
man's  sister  is  waitress.  She  will  have  his  car  ready,  that 
will  avoid  the  Junction.  It  will  be  rough  work,  Conrad, 
but  it  is  your  move.  It  is  an  order." 

And  then  before  that  carefully  quiet  man  who  had 
the  appearance  of  a  modest  country  person,  Adolf  Con 
rad  suddenly  came  to  his  feet  in  military  salute. 

"Come,  we  will  talk  it  over/'  suggested  his  superior. 
"It  will  be  rough,  yet  necessary,  and  if  it  could  appear 
suicide,  eh  ?  Well,  we  will  see.  We  —  will  —  see ! " 

At  seven  in  the  morning  the  Granados  telephone  bell 
brought  Singleton  into  the  patio  in  his  dressing  gown  and 
slippers.  And  Dona  Luz  who  was  seeing  that  his  break 
fast  was  served,  heard  him  express  surprise  and  then  say : 

"Why,  certainly.  If  you  are  coming  this  way  as  far 
on  the  road  as  the  Jefferson  ranch  of  course  we  can  meet 
there,  and  I  only  need  to  go  half  way.  That  will  be  ex 
cellent.  Yes,  and  if  Judge  Jefferson  is  at  home  he  may 
be  able  to  help  with  his  advice.  Fine!  Good-bye/* 

When  Dona  Luz  was  questioned  about  it  later  she  was 
quite  sure  Mr.  Singleton  mentioned  no  name,  his  words 
were  as  words  to  a  friend. 

But  all  that  day  the  telephone  was  out  of  order  on  the 
Granados  line,  and  Singleton  did  not  return  that  night. 
There  was  nothing  to  cause  question  in  that,  as  he  had 
probably  gone  on  to  Nogales,  but  when  the  second  day 
came  and  the  telephone  not  working,  Billie  started  Pedro 


UNDER  THE  CQTTONWOODS 95 

Vijil  to  ride  the  line  to  Granados  Junction,  get  the  mail, 
and  have  a  line  man  sent  out  for  repairs  wherever  they 
were  needed. 

It  was  puzzling  because  there  had  been  no  storm,  noth 
ing  of  which  they  knew  to  account  for  the  silent  wire. 
The  line  was  an  independent  one  from  the  Junction,  and 
there  were  only  two  stations  on  it,  the  Jefferson  ranch 
and  Granados. 

But  Vijil  forgot  about  the  wire,  for  he  met  some  sheep 
men  from  the  hills  carrying  the  body  of  Singleton.  They 
had  found  him  in  the  cottonwoods  below  the  road  not 
five  miles  from  the  hacienda.  His  car  he  had  driven  off 
the  road  back  of  a  clump  of  thick  mesquite.  The  re 
volver  was  still  in  his  hand,  and  the  right  temple  covered 
with  black  blood  and  flies. 

There  was  nothing  better  to  do  than  what  the  herders 
were  doing.  The  man  had  been  dead  a  day  and  must  be 
buried,  also  it  was  necessary  to  send  a  man  to  Jeffersons, 
where  there  was  a  telephone,  to  get  in  touch  with  some 
one  in  authority  and  arrange  for  the  funeral. 

So  the  herders  walked  along  with  their  burden  carried 
in  a  scrape y  and  covered  by  the  carriage  robe.  Pedro  had 
warned  them  to  halt  at  his  own  house,  for  telephone  calls 
would  certainly  gather  men,  who  would  help  to  arrange 
all  decently  before  the  body  was  taken  into  the  sala  of 
Granados. 

There  is  not  much  room  for  conjecture  as  to  the  means 
of  a  man's  taking  off  when  he  is  found  with  a  bullet  in  his 
right  temple,  a  revolver  in  his  right  hand,  and  only  one 
empty  cartridge  shell  in  the  revolver.  There  seemed  no 
mystery  about  the  death,  except  the  cause  of  suicide. 


96 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL     • 

It  was  the  same  evening  that  Conrad  riding  in  from 
the  south,  attempted  to  speak  over  the  wire  with  Granados 
and  got  from  Central  information  that  the  Granados  wire 
was  broken,  and  Singleton,  the  proprietor,  a  suicide. 

The  coroner's  inquest  so  pronounced  it,  after  careful 
investigation  of  the  few  visible  facts.  Conrad  was  of  no 
value  as  a  witness  because  he  had  been  absent  in  Mag- 
dalena.  He  could  surmise  no  reason  for  such  an  act, 
but  confessed  he  knew  practically  nothing  of  Singleton's 
personal  affairs.  He  was  guardian  of  his  stepdaughter 
and  her  estate,  and  so  far  as  Conrad  knew  all  his  relations 
with  the  personnel  of  the  estate  were  most  amicable. 
Conrad  acknowledged  when  questioned  that  Singleton 
did  usually  carry  a  revolver  when  out  in  the  car,  he  had  a 
horror  of  snakes,  and  he  had  never  known  him  to  use  a 
gun  for  anything  else. 

Dona  Luz  Moreno  confused  matters  considerably  by 
her  statement  that  Mr.  Singleton  was  going  to  meet  some 
man  at  the  Jefferson  ranch  because  the  man  had  called 
him  up  before  breakfast  to  arrange  it.  Later  it  was 
learned  that  no  call  was  made  from  any  station  over 
the  wire  that  morning  to  Granados.  There  was  in  fact 
several  records  of  failure  to  get  Granados.  No  one  but 
Dona  Luz  had  heard  the  call  and  heard  Singleton  reply, 
yet  it  was  not  possible  that  this  communication  could 
be  a  fact  over  a  broken  wire,  and  the  wire  was  found 
broken  between  the  Jefferson  ranch  and  Granados. 

Whereupon  word  promptly  went  abroad  among  the 
Mexicans  that  Seiior  Singleton  had  been  lured  to  his 
death  by  a  spirit  voice  calling  over  a  broken  wire  as  a 
friend  to  a  friend.  For  the  rest  of  her  life  Dona  Luz 


UNDER  THE  COTTONWOODS 97 

will  have  that  tale  to  tell  as  the  evidence  of  her  own  ears 
that  warnings  of  death  do  come  from  the  fearsome  spirits 
of  the  shadowed  unknown  land,  —  and  this  in  denial  of  all 
the  padres'  godly  discourse  to  the  contrary ! 

A  Mr.  Frederick  James  of  Nogales,  connected  with  a 
group  of  charitable  gentlemen  working  for  the  alleviating 
of  distress  among  the  many  border  exiles  from  Mexico, 
was  the  only  person  who  came  forward  voluntarily  to 
offer  help  to  the  coroner  regarding  the  object  of  the  dead 
man's  journey  to  Nogales.  Mr.  James  had  been  called 
on  the  telephone  by  Mr.  Singleton,  who  was  apparently 
in  great  distress  of  mind  concerning  mysterious  illness 
and  deaths  of  horses  shipped  from  Granados  to  France. 
A  telegram  had  come  from  New  York  warning  him  that 
the  Department  of  Justice  was  investigating  the  matter, 
and  the  excitement  and  nervousness  of  Mr.  Singleton  was 
such  that  Mr.  James  readily  consented  to  a  meeting  in 
Nogales,  with  the  hope  that  he  might  be  of  service  in  any 
investigation  they  would  decide  upon  after  consultation. 
When  Mr.  Singleton  did  not  keep  the  engagement,  Mr. 
James  attempted  to  make  inquiries  by  telephone.  He 
tried  again  the  following  morning,  but  it  was  only  after 
hearing  of  the  suicide  —  he  begged  pardon  —  the  death  of 
Mr.  Singleton,  that  he  recalled  the  fact  that  all  of  Single 
ton's  discourse  over  the  telephone  had  been  unusual,  ex 
citable  to  a  degree,  while  all  acquaintances  of  the  dead 
man  knew  him  as  a  quiet,  reserved  man,  really  unusually 
reserved,  almost  to  the  point  of  the  secretive.  Mr.  James 
was  struck  by  the  unusual  note  of  panic  in  his  tones,  but 
as  a  carload  of  horses  was  of  considerable  financial  value, 
he  ascribed  the  excitement  in  part  to  that,  feeling  confi- 


98    THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

dent  of  course  that  Mr.  Singleton  was  in  no  ways  ac 
countable  for  the  loss,  but 

Mr.  James  was  asked  if  the  nervousness  indicated  by 
Mr.  Singleton  was  a  fear  of  personal  consequences  fol 
lowing  the  telegram,  but  Mr.  James  preferred  not  to  say. 
He  had  regarded  Mr.  Singleton  as  a  model  of  most  of  the 
virtues,  and  while  Singleton's  voice  and  manner  had  cer 
tainly  been  unusual,  he  could  not  presume  to  suspect  the 
inner  meaning  of  it. 

The  telegraph  and  telephone  records  bore  out  the  testi 
mony  of  Mr.  James. 

The  fact  that  the  first  telegram  was  addressed  to  the 
manager,  Mr.  Conrad,  had  apparently  nothing  to  do  with 
the  case,  since  the  telegraph  files  showed  that  messages 
were  about  evenly  divided  in  the  matter  of  address  con 
cerning  ranch  matters.  They  were  often  addressed  simply 
to  "  Granados  Rancho  "  or  "  Manager  Granados  Ranch." 
This  one  simply  happened  to  be  addressed  to  the  name  of 
the  manager. 

The  coroner  decided  that  the  mode  of  address  had  no 
direct  bearing  on  the  fact  that  the  man  was  found  dead 
under  the  cottonwoods  with  copies  of  both  telegrams  in 
his  pocket,  both  written  in  a  different  hand  from  his  care 
fully  clear  script  as  shown  in  his  address  book.  Safe  in 
his  pocket  also  was  money,  a  gold  watch  with  a  small 
gold  compass,  and  a  handsome  seal  ring.  Nothing  was 
missing,  which  of  course  precluded  the  thought  of  murder 
for  robbery,  and  Philip  Singleton  was  too  mildly  negative 
to  make  personal  enemies,  a  constitutional  neutral. 

Billie,  looking  very  small  and  very  quiet,  was  brought 
in  by  Dona  Luz  and  Mr.  Jefferson  of  the  neighboring 


UNDER  THE  COTTONWOODS 


ranch,  fifty  miles  to  the  east.  She  had  not  been  weeping. 
She  was  too  stunned  for  tears,  and  there  was  a  strangely 
ungirlish  tension  about  her,  an  alert  questioning  in  her 
eyes  as  she  looked  from  face  to  face,  and  then  returned 
to  the  face  of  the  one  man  who  was  a  stranger,  the  kindly 
sympathetic  face  of  Mr.  Frederick  James. 

She  told  of  the  telegrams  she  had  copied,  and  of  the 
distress  of  Singleton,  but  that  his  distress  was  no  more 
than  her  own,  that  she  had  been  crying  about  the  horses, 
and  he  had  tried  to  comfort  her.  She  did  not  believe  he 
had  a  trouble  in  the  world  of  his  own,  and  he  had  never 
killed  himself — never! 

When  asked  if  she  had  any  reason  to  suspect  a  mur 
derer,  she  said  if  they  ever  found  who  killed  the  horses 
they  would  find  who  killed  her  Papa  Phil,  but  this  opinion 
was  evidently  not  shared  by  any  of  the  others.  The 
report  of  horses  dead  on  a  transport  in  the  Atlantic  ocean, 
and  a  man  dead  under  the  cottonwoods  in  Arizona,  did 
not  appear  to  have  any  definite  physical  relation  to  each 
other,  unless  of  course  the  loss  of  the  horses  had  proven 
too  much  of  a  shock  to  Mr.  Singleton  and  upset  his 
nerves  to  the  extent  that  moody  depression  had  developed 
into  temporary  dementia.  His  own  gun  had  been  the  evi 
dent  agent  of  death. 

One  of  the  Mexicans  recalled  that  Singleton  had  dis 
charged  an  American  foreman  in  anger,  and  that  the  man 
had  been  in  a  rage  about  it,  and  assaulted  Mr.  Conrad, 
whereupon  Conrad  was  recalled,  and  acknowledged  the 
assault  with  evident  intent  to  kill.  Yes,  he  heard  the  man 
Rhodes  had  threatened  Singleton  with  a  nastier  accident 
than  his  attempt  on  Conrad.  No,  he  had  not  heard  it 


100 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL         

personally,  as  he  was  unconscious  when  the  threat  was 
made. 

"  It  wasn't  a  threat ! "  interrupted  Billie,  "  it  was  some 
thing  different,  a  warning." 

"  A  warning  of  what  ?  " 

Billie  was  about  to  quote  Kit's  opinion  concerning 
Singleton's  ranch  force,  when  she  was  halted  by  a  strange 
thing — for  Billie;  it  was  merely  the  mild  steady  gaze 
of  the  quiet  gentleman  of  the  peaceful  league  of  the  neu 
trals.  There  was  a  slight  lifting  of  his  brows  as  she 
spoke  of  a  warning;  and  then  a  slight  suggestion  of  a 
smile — it  might  have  been  a  perfectly  natural  incredu 
lous  smile,  but  Billie  felt  that  it  was  not.  The  yellowish 
brown  eyes  narrowed  until  only  the  pupils  were  visible, 
and  warm  though  the  day  was,  Billie  felt  a  swift  chill 
over  her,  and  her  words  were  cautious. 

"  I  can't  say,  I  don't  know,  but  Kit  Rhodes  had  no 
grudge  against  Papa  Phil.  He  seemed  in  some  way  to 
be  sorry  for  him." 

She  noted  that  Conrad's  gaze  was  on  the  face  of  Mr. 
James  instead  of  on  her. 

"Sorry  for  him?" 

"Y-yes,  sort  of.  He  tried  to  explain  why,  but  Papa 
would  not  listen,  and  would  not  make  any  engagement 
with  him.  Sent  his  money  by  Captain  Pike  and  wouldn't 
see  him.  But  Kit  Rhodes  did  not  make  a  threat,  he 
did  not!" 

Her  last  denial  was  directly  at  Conrad,  who  merely 
shrugged  his  shoulders  as  if  to  dispose  of  that  awkward 
phase  of  the  matter. 

"It  was  told  me  so,  but  the  Mexican  men  might  not 


UNDER  THE  CQTTQNW<3ODS  1'Pl 

have  understood  the  words  of  Rhodes  —  he  was  in  a  rage 
—  and  it  may  be  he  did  not  mean  so  much  as  he  said." 

"But  he  didn't  say  it!'  insisted  Billie. 

"  Very  good,  he  did  not,  and  it  is  a  mistake  of  mine/' 
agreed  Conrad  politely.  "  For  quite  awhile  I  was  uncon 
scious  after  his  assault,  naturally  I  know  nothing  of 
what  was  said." 

"And  where  is  this  man  Rhodes  to  be  found?"  asked 
the"  coroner,  and  Conrad  smiled  meaningly. 

"  Nowhere,  —  or  so  I  am  told !  He  and  a  companion 
are  said  to  have  crossed  the  line  into  Sonora  twenty-four 
hours  before  the  death  of  Mr.  Singleton." 

"  Well,  unless  there  is  some  evidence  that  he  was  seen 
later  on  this  side,  any  threat  he  might  or  might  not  have 
made,  has  no  relation  whatever  to  this  case.  Is  there  any 
evidence  that  he  was  seen  at,  or  near,  Granados  a.fter 
starting  for  Sonora?" 

No  evidence  was  forthcoming,  and  the  coroner,  in 
summoning  up,  confessed  he  was  not  satisfied  to  leave 
certain  details  of  the  case  a  mystery. 

That  Singleton  had  discharged  Rhodes  in  anger,  and 
Rhodes  had,  even  by  intimation,  voiced  a  threat  against 
Singleton  could  not  be  considered  as  having  any  bearing 
on  the  death  of  the  latter;  while  the  voice  of  the  unknown 
calling  him  to  a  meeting  at  Jefferson's  ranch  was  equally 
a  matter  of  mystery,  since  no  one  at  Jefferson's  knew 
anything  of  the  message,  or  the  speaker,  and  investigation 
developed  the  fact  that  the  telephone  wire  was  broken 
between  the  two  ranches,  and  there  was  no  word  at 
Granados  Junction  Central  of  any  message  to  Granados 
after  five  o'clock  the  afternoon  of  the  previous  day. 


THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 


And,  since  Philip  Singleton  never  reached  the  Jefferson 
ranch,  but  turned  his  car  off  the  road  at  the*  cottonwood 
canon,  and  was  found  with  one  bullet  in  his  head,  and 
the  gun  in  his  own  hand,  it  was  not  for  a  coroner's  jury 
to  conjecture  the  impulse  leading  up  to  the  act,  or  the 
business  complications  by  which  the  act  might,  or  might 
not,  have  been  hastened.  But  incomprehensible  though 
it  might  seem  to  all  concerned  there  was  only  one  finding 
on  the  evidence  submitted,  and  that  was  suicide. 

"Papa  Phil  never  killed  himself,  never!"  declared 
Billie.  "That  would  be  two  suicides  in  a  month  for 
Granados,  and  two  is  one  too  many.  We  never  had 
suicides  here  before." 

"Who  was  the  other?" 

"Why,  Miguel  Herrara  who  had  been  arrested  for 
smuggling,  was  searched  and  his  gun  taken,  and  yet?  that 
night  found  a  gun  to  kill  himself  with  in  the  adobe  where 
he  was  locked  up!  Miguel  would  not  have  cared  for  a 
year  or  two  in  jail;  he  had  lived  there  before,  and  hadn't 
tried  any  killing.  I  tell  you  Granados  is  getting  more 
than  its  share." 

"  It  sure  looks  like  it,  little  lady,"  agreed  the  coroner, 
"but  Herrara's  death  gives  us  no  light  or  evidence  on 
Singleton's  death,  and  our  jurisdiction  is  limited  strictly 
to  the  hand  thai  held  the  gun,  The  evidence  shows  it  was 
in  the  hand  of  Mr.  Singletpn  when  found." 

The  Jeffersons  insisted  that  Billie  go  home  with  them, 
as  the  girl  appeared  absolutely  and  pathetically  alone  in 
the  world.  She  knew  of  no  relatives,  and  Tia  Luz  and 
Captain  Pike  were  the  only  two  whom  she  had  known 
from  babyhood  as  friends  of  her  father's. 


UNDER  THE  COTTONWOODS  103 

The  grandmother  of  Billie  Bernard  had  been  the  daugh 
ter  of  a  Spanish  haciendado  who  was  also  an  officer  in 
the  army  of  Mexico.  He  met  death  in  battle  before  he 
ever  learned  that  his  daughter,  in  the  pious  work  of  nurs 
ing  friend  and  enemy  alike,  had  nursed  one  enemy  of 
the  hated  North  until  each  was  captive  to  the  other,  and 
she  rode  beside  him  to  her  father's  farthest  northern 
rancho  beyond  the  Mexican  deserts,  and  never  went 
again  to  the  gay  circles  of  Mexico's  capital.  Late  in  her 
life  one  daughter,  Dbrotea  was  born,  and  when  Alfred 
Bernard  came  out  of  the  East  and  looked  on  her,  a  blonde 
Spanish  girl  as  her  ancestresses  of  Valencia  had  been, 
the  game  of  love  was  played  again  in  the  old  border 
rancho  which  was  world  enough  for  the  lovers.  There 
had  been  one  eastern  summer  for  them  the  first  year  of 
their  marriage,  and  Philip  Singleton  had  seen  her  there, 
and  never  forgot  her.  After  her  widowhood  he  crossed 
the  continent  to  be  near  her,  and  after  awhile  his  devo 
tion,  and  her  need  of  help  in  many  ways,  won  the  place 
he  coveted,  and  life  at  Granados  went  on  serenely  until 
her  death.  Though  he  had  at  times  been  bored  a  bit  by 
the  changelessness  of  ranch  life,  yet  he  had  given  his 
word  to  guard  the  child's  inheritance  until  she  came  of 
age,  and  had  kept  it  loyally  as  he  knew  how  until  death 
met  him  in  the  canon  of  the  cottonwoods. 

But  the  contented  isolation  of  her  immediate  family 
left  Billie  only  such  guardian  as  the  court  might  appoint 
for  her  property  and  person,  and  Andrew  Jefferson, 
Judge  Jefferson  by  courtesy,  in  the  county,  would  no 
doubt  be  choice  of  the  court  as  well  as  the  girl.  Beyond 
that  she  could  only  think  of  Pike,  and  —  well  Pike  was 


104  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

out  of  reach  on  some  enchanted  gold  trail  of  which  she 
must  not  speak,  and  she  supposed  she  would  have  to  go 
to  school  instead  of  going  in  search  of  him! 

Conrad  spoke  to  her  kindly  as  she  was  led  to  the  Jef- 
fersori  car,  and  there  was  a  subtle  deference  in  his 
manner,  indicating  his  realization  that  he  was  speaking  — 
not  to  the  wilful  little  maid  who  could  be  annoying — but 
to  the  owner  of  Granados  and,  despite  his  five  year  con 
tract  as  manager,  an  owner  who  could  change  entirely 
the  activities  of  the  two  ranches  in  another  year  —  and 
it  was  an  important  year. 

He  also  spoke  briefly  to  Mr.  James  offering  him  the 
hospitality  of  the  ranch  for  a  day  of  rest  before  return 
ing  to  Nogales,  but  the  offer  was  politely  declined.  Mr. 
James  intimated  that  he  was  at  Conrad's  service  if  he 
could  be  of  any  practical  use  in  the  mysterious  situation. 
He  carefully  gave  his  address  and  telephone  number,  and 
bade  the  others  good  day.  But  as  he  was  entering  his 
little  roadster  he  spoke  again  to  Conrad. 

"  By  the  way,  it  was  a  mistake  to  let  that  man  Rhodes 
get  over  into  Sonora.  It  should  be  the  task  of  someone 
to  see  that  he  does  not  come  back.  He  seems  a  very  dan 
gerous  man.  See  to  it ! " 

The  words  were  those  of  a  kindly  person  interested 
in  the  welfare  of  the  community,  and  evidently  impressed 
by  the  evidence  referring  to  the  discharged  range  boss. 
Two  of  the  men  hearing  him  exchanged  glances,  for  they 
also  thought  that  rumor  of  the  threats  should  have  been 
looked  into.  But  the  last  three  words  were  spoken  too 
softly  for  any  but  Conrad  to  hear. 

The  following  week  Billie  went  to  Tucson  with  the 


UNDER  THE  COTTONWOODS  105 

Jeffersons  and  at  her  request  Judge  Jefferson  was  ap 
pointed  guardian  of  her  person  and  estate,  after  which 
she  and  the  judge  went  into  a  confidential  session  con 
cerning  that  broken  wire  on  the  Granados  line. 

"  I'm  not  loco,  Judge,"  she  insisted,  "  but  I  want  you  to 
learn  whether  that  wire  was  cut  on  purpose,  or  just  broke 
itself.  Also  I  want  you  to  take  up  that  horse  affair  with 
the  secret  service  people.  I  don't  want  Conrad  to  be  sent 
away — yet.  I'd  rather  watch  him  on  Granados.  I 
won't  go  away  to  school;  I'd  rather  have  a  teacher  at 
home.  We  can  find  one." 

"  But,  do  you  realize  that  with  two  mysterious  deaths 
on  Granados  lately,  you  might  run  some  personal  risk  of 
living  there  with  only  yourself  and  two  women  in  the 
house?  I'm  not  sure  we  can  sanction  that,  my  child." 

Billie  smiled  at  him  a  bit  wanly,  but  decided. 

"Now  Judge,  you  know  I  picked  you  because  you 
would  let  me  do  whatever  I  pleased,  and  I  don't  mean  to 
be  disappointed  with  you.  Half  the  men  at  the  inquest 
think  that  Kit  Rhodes  did  come  back  to  do  that  shooting, 
and  you  know  Conrad  and  the  very  smooth  rat  of  the 
Charities  Society  are  accountable  for  that  opinion.  The 
Mexican  who  dragged  in  Kit's  name  is  one  of  Conrad's 
men;  it  all  means  something!  It's  a  bad  muddle,  but 
Kit  Rhodes  and  Cap  Pike  will  wander  back  here  some  of 
these  days,  and  I  mean  to  have  every  bit  of  evidence  for 
Kit  to  start  in  with.  He  suspected  a  lot,  and  all  Granados 
combined  to  silence  him  —  fool  Granados ! " 

"  But,  just  between  ourselves,  child,  are  you  convinced 
Rhodes  did  not  make  the  statement  liable  to  be  construed 
into  a  threat  against  Mr.  Singleton?" 


106 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

"  Convinced  nothing,"  was  the  inelegant  reply  of  his 
new  ward.  "  I  heard  him  say  enough  to  hang  him  if  evi 
dence  could  be  found  that  he  was  north  of  the  line,  that 
morning,  and  that's  why  it's  my  job  to  take  note  of  all  the 
evidence  on  the  other  side.  The  horses  did  not  kill  them 
selves.  That  telegram  concerning  it  did  not  send  itself. 
Papa  Phil  did  not  shoot  himself,  and  that  telephone  wire 
did  not  cut  itself !  My  hunch  is  that  those  four  things  go 
together,  and  that's  a  combination  they  can't  clear  up  by 
dragging  in  the  name  of  a  man  who  never  saw  the  horses, 
and  who  was  miles  south  in  Sonora  with  Cap  Pike  when 
the  other  three  things  happened.  Now  can  they?" 


CHAPTER  VII 

IN    THE   PROVINCE   OF   ALTAR 

There  was  a  frog  who  lived  in  the  spring: 

Sing-song  Kitty,  can't  yo'  carry  me,  oh? 
And  it  was  so  cold  that  he  could  not  sing, 

Sing-song  Kitty,  can't  yo'  carry  me,  oh? 

Ke-mo !   Ki-m o!   D ear — oh  my ! 

To  my  hi'  —  to  my  ho  —  to  my 

!  FOR  the  love  of  Mike!  Bub,  can't  you  give 
a  man  a  rest  instead  of  piling  up  the  agony? 
These  old  joints  of  mine  are  creakin'  with  every  move 
from  desert  rust  and  dry  camps,  and  you  with  no  more 
heart  in  you  than  to  sing  of  springs,  —  cold  springs ! " 

"They  do  exist,  Cap." 

"Uh — huh,  they  are  as  real  to  us  this  minute  as  the 
red  gold  that  we've  trailed  until  we're  at  the  tag  end  of 
our  grub  stake.  I  tell  you,  Bub,  they  stacked  the  cards 
on  us  with  that  door  of  the  old  Soledad  Mission,  and  the 
view  of  the  gold  canon  from  there!  Why,  Whitely 
showed  us  that  the  mission  door  never  did  face  the  hills, 
but  looked  right  down  the  valley  towards  the  Rio  del 
Altar  just  as  the  Soledad  plaza  does  today;  all  the  old 
Mexicans  and  Indians  tell  us  that." 

"Well,  we've  combed  over  most  of  the  arroyas  leading 

107 


108 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

into  the  Altar  from  Rancho  Soledad,  and  all  we've  found 
is  placer  gravel ;  yet  the  placers  are  facts,  and  the  mother 
lode  is  somewhere,  Cap." 

"  Worn  down  to  pan  dirt,  that's  what ! "  grunted  Pike. 
"  I  tell  you  these  heathen  sit  around  and  dream  lost  mis 
sion  tales  and  lost  mine  lies;  dream  them  by  the  dozen 
to  delude  just  such  innocent  yaps  as  you  and  me.  They've 
nothing  else  to  do  between  crops.  We  should  have  stuck 
to  a  white  man's  land,  north  into  Arizona  where  the  Three 
Hills  of  Gold  are  waiting,  to  say  nothing  of  the  Lost 
Stone  Cabin  mine,  lost  not  twenty  miles  from  Quartzite, 
and  in  plain  sight  of  Castle  Dome.  Now  there  is  nothing 
visionary  about  that,  Kit!  Why,  I  knew  an  old-timer 
who  freighted  rich  ore  out  of  that  mine  tHirty  years  ago, 
and  even  the  road  to  jt  has  been  lost  for  years!  We 
know  things  once  did  exist  up  in  that  country,  Kit,  and 
down  here  we  are  all  tangled  up  with  Mexican-Indian 
stories  of  ghosts  and  enchantments,  and  such  vagaries. 
I'm  fed  up  with  them  to  the  limit,  for  everyone  of  them 
we  listen  to  is  different  from  the  last.  We'll  head  up  into 
the  Castle  Dome  country  next  time,  hear  me?  " 

"  Sure,  I  hear,"  agreed  Kit  cheerfully.  "  Perhaps  we 
do  lose,  but  it's  not  so  bad.  Since  Whitely  sent  his  family 
north,  he  has  intimated  that  Mesa  Blanca  is  a  single 
man's  job,  and  I  reckon  I  can  have  it  when  he  goes  —  as 
he  will.  Then  in  the  month  we  have  scouted  free  of 
Whitelys,  we  have  dry  washed  enough  dust  to  put  you 
on  velvet  till  things  come  our  way.  Say,  what  will  you 
bet  that  a  month  of  comfort  around  Nogales  won't  make 
you  hungry  for  the  trail  again?" 

"A  gold  trail?"  queried  the  weary  and  dejected  Pike. 


IN  THE  PROVINCE  OF  ALTAR  109 

"Any  old  trail  to  any  old  place  just  so  we  keep 
ambling  on.  You  can't  live  contented  under  cover,  ajpd 
you  know  it." 

"Well,"  decided  Pike  after  a  rod  or  two  of  tramping 
along  the  shaly,  hot  bed  of  a  dry  arroya.  "  I  won't  bet, 
for  you  may  be  among  the  prophets.  But  while  you  are 
about  it,  I'd  be  thankful  if  you'd  prophesy  me  a  wet  trail 
next  time  instead  of  skimpy  mud  holes  where  springs 
ought  to  be.  I'm  sick  of  dry  camps,  and  so  is  Baby 
BuntinV 

"'  Oh,  there  w&s  a  frog  lived  in  the  spring!'"  chanted 
Kit  derisively.  "  Cheer  up,  Cap,  the  worst  is  yet  to  come, 
for  I've  an  idea  that  the  gang  of  Mexican  vaqueros  we 
glimpsed  from  the  butte  at  noon  will  just  about  muss  up 
the  water  hole  in  Yaqui  canon  until  it  will  be  us  for  a 
sleep  there  before  the  fluid  is  fit  for  a  water  bottle.  '  Oh, 
there  was  a  frog  lived  in  the  spring !'  Buntin'  Baby, 
we'll  fish  the  frog  out,  and  let  you  wallow  in  it  instead, 
you  game  little  dusty  rat !  Say,  Pike,  when  we  load  up 
with  grub  again  we'll  keep  further  west  to  the  Cerrado 
Pintado.  I'll  follow  a  hunch  of  my  own  next  trip." 

The  older  man  grunted  disdain  for  the  hunches  of  Kit, 
even  while  his  eyes  smiled  response  to  the  ever-living  call 
of  youth.  To  Rhodes  there  was  ever  a  "  next  time."  He 
was  young  enough  to  deal  in  futures,  and  had  a  way  with 
him  by  which  friends  were  to  be  found  for  even  unstable 
venturings  with  no  backing  more  substantial  than  a 
"hunch." 

Not  that  Kit  was  gifted  with  any  great  degree  of  fatal 
beauty  —  men  are  not  often  pretty  on  the  trail,  unwashed, 
unshaven,  and  unshorn  —  added  to  which  their  equip- 


110  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

ment  had  reached  the  point  where  his  most  pretentious 
garment  was  a  square  of  an  Indian  serape  with  a  hole  in 
the  middle  worn  as  a  poncho,  and  adopted  to  save  his  coat 
and  other  shirt  on  the  hard  trail. 

Cap  Pike  growled  that  he  looked  like  a  Mexican  peon 
in  that  raiment,  which  troubled  Kit  not  at  all.  He  was 
red  bronze  from  the  desert  days,  and  his  blue  eyes,  with 
the  long  black  lashes  of  some  Celtic  ancestor,  looked  out 
on  the  world  with  direct  mild  approval.  They  matched 
the  boyish  voice  much  given  to  trolling  old-time  ditties 
and  sentimental  foolishness. 

He  led  the  dappled  roan  over  the  wild  dry  "wash" 
where  the  sand  was  deep  and  slippery,  and  the  white 
crust  of  alkali  over  all.  Before  him  swayed  the  pack 
mules,  and  back  of  him  Captain  Pike  sagged  on  the  little 
gray  burro,  named  in  derision  and  affection,  the  Baby 
Bunting  of  the  outfit. 

The  jauntiness  was  temporarily  eliminated  from  the 
old  prospector.  Two  months  of  fruitless  scratching 
gravel  when  he  had  expected  to  walk  without  special 
delay  to  the  great  legendary  deposit,  had  taken  the  sparkle 
of  hope  from  the  blue  eyes,  and  he  glanced  perfunctorily 
aj:  the  walls  of  that  which  had  once  been  a  river  bed. 

"  What  in  time  do  you  reckon  became  of  all  the  water 
that  used  to  fill  these  dry  gullies  ?  "  he  asked  querulously. 
"  Why,  it  took  a  thousand  years  of  floods  to  wash  these 
boulders  round,  and  then  leave  them  high  and  dry  when 
nicely  polished.  That's  a  waste  in  nature  I  can't  figure 
out,  and  this  godforsaken  territory  is  full  of  them." 

"Well,  you  grouch,  if  we  didn't  have  this  dry  bed  to 
skip  along,  we  would  be  bucking  the  greasewood  and 


IN  THE  PROVINCE  OF  ALTAR  111 

cactus  on  the  mesa  above.  So  we  get  some  favors  com 
ing  our  way." 

"Skip  along,  —  me  eye!"  grunted  Pike,  as  the  burro 
toiled  laboriously  through  the  sand,  and  Kit  shifted  and 
stumbled  over  treadierous,  half-buried  boulders.  "  Say, 
Kit,  don't  you  reckon  it's  time  for  Billie  to  answer  my 
letter  ?  It's  over  eight  weeks  now,  and  mail  ought  to  get 
in  once  a  month." 

Rhodes  grunted  something  about  "  mail  in  normal 
times,  but  these  times  were  nofnormal,"  and  did  not  seem 
much  interested  in  word  from  Granados. 

He  had  not  the  heart,  or  else  had  too  much,  to  tell  the 
old  man  that  the  letter  to  Billie  never  reached  her.  When 
Whitely  went  north  he  put  it  in  his  coat  pocket,  and  then 
changed  his  coat!  Kit  found  it  a  month  later  and  held 
it,  waiting  to  find  someone  going  out.  He  had  not  even 
mentioned  it  to  Whitely  on  his  return,  for  Whitely  was 
having  his  own  troubles,  and  could  not  spare  a  man  for 
a  four  day  trip  to  mail. 

Whitely's  folks  lived  north  of  Naco,  and  he  had  gone 
there  direct  and  returned  without  touching  at  Nogales,  or 
hearing  of  the  tragedy  at  Granados.  The  latest  news  of 
the  Mexican  revolutions,  and  the  all-absorbing  question 
as  to  whether  the  United  States  would  or  would  not  inter 
vene,  seemed  all  the  news  the  worried  Whitely  had 
brought  back.  Even  the  slaughter  of  a  dozen  nations  of 
Europe  had  no  new  features  to  a  ranchman  of  Sonora, — 
it  remained  just  slaughter.  And  one  did  not  need  to  cross 
boundaries  to  learn  of  killings,  for  all  the  world  seemed 
aflame,  and  every  state  in  Mexico  had  its  own  wars, — 
little  or  big. 


112 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

Then,  in  the  records  of  the  tumultuous  days,  there  was 
scarce  space  for  the  press  or  people  to  give  thought  after 
the  first  day  or  two,  to  the  colorless  life  going  out  in 
mystery  under  the  cottonwoods  of  Granados,  and  no  word 
came  to  tell  Rhodes  of  the  suspicion,  only  half  veiled, 
against  himself. 

The  ranch  house  of  Mesa  Blanca  was  twenty  miles 
from  the  hacienda  of  Soledad,  and  a  sharp  spur  of  the 
Carrizal  range  divided  their  grazing  lands.  Soledad 
reached  a  hundred  miles  south  and  Mesa  Blanca  claimed 
fifty  miles  to  the  west,  so  that  the  herds  seldom  mingled, 
but  word  filtered  to  and  from  between  the  vaqueros,  and 
Rhodes  heard  that  Perez  had  come  north  from  Hermosillo 
and  that  El  Aleman,  (the  German)  had  made  the  two  day 
trip  in  from  the  railroad,  and  had  gone  on  a  little  pasear 
to  the  small  rancherias  with  Juan  Gonsalvo,  the  half- 
breed  overseer.  The  vaqueros  talked  with  each  other 
about  that,  for  there  were  no  more  young  men  among 
them  for  soldiers,  only  boys  and  old  men  to  tend  the 
cattle,  and  what  did  it  mean  ? 

The  name  of  Rhodes  was  not  easy  for  the  Mexican 
tongue,  and  at  Mesa  Blanca  his  identity  was  promptly 
lost  in  the  gift  of  a  name  with  a  meaning  to  them,  El 
Pajarito,  (the  singer),  Capitan  Viajo,  (the  old  captain), 
was  accepted  by  Pike  with  equal  serenity,  as  both  men 
were  only  too  well  pleased  to  humor  the  Indian  ranch 
people  in  any  friendly  concessions,  for  back  of  some  of 
those  alert  black  eyes  there  were  surely  inherited  records 
of  old  pagan  days,  and  old  legends  of  golden  veins  in  the 
hills. 

The  fact  that  they  were  left  practically  nameless  in  a 


IN  THE  PROVINCE  OF  ALTAR  113 

strange  territory  did  not  occur  to  either  of  them,  and 
would  not  have  disturbed  them  if  it  had.  They  had  met 
no  American  but  Whitely  since  they  first  struck  Mesa 
Blanca.  One  month  Kit  had  conscientiously  stuck  to  the 
ranch  cares  while  Whitely  took  his  family  out,  and  Pike 
had  made  little  sallies  into  the  hills  alone. 

On  Whitely's  return  he  had  made  an  errand  to  Soledad 
and  taken  Rhodes  and  Pike  along  that  they  might  view  the 
crumbled  walls  of  old  Soledad  Mission,  back  of  the  ranch 
house.  The  ancient  rooms  of  the  mission  padres  were 
now  used  principally  as  corrals,  harness  shop,  and  storage 
rooms. 

The  situation  in  itself  was  one  of  rare  beauty;  —  those 
old  padres  knew ! 

It  was  set  on  a  high  plain  or  mesa,  facing  a  wide  valley 
spreading  miles  away  to  the  south  where  mother-of-pearl 
mountains  were  ranged  like  strung  jewels  far  against  the 
Mexican  sky.  At  the  north,  slate-blue  foothills  lifted 
their  sharp-edged  shoulders  three  miles  away,  but  only 
blank  walls  of  Soledad  faced  the  hills,  all  portals  of  the 
old  mission  appeared  to  have  faced  south,  as  did  Soledad. 
The  door  facing  the  hills  was  a  myth.  And  as  Rhodes 
stood  north  of  the  old  wall,  and  searched  its  thirty-mile 
circle,  he  could  understand  how  four  generations  of  gold 
seekers  had  failed  to  find  even  a  clue  to  the  wealth  those 
unknown  padres  had  looked  on,  and  sent  joyous  evidence 
of  to  the  viceroy  of  the  south.  It  would  take  years  of 
systematic  search  to  cover  even  half  the  visible  range. 
A  man  could  devote  a  long  lifetime  to  a  fruitless  search 
there,  and  then  some  straying  burro  might  uncover  it  for 
an  Indian  herder  who  would  fill  his  poncho,  and  make  a 


114  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

sensation  for  a  week  or  two,  and  never  find  the  trail 
again ! 

"It's  just  luck!"  said  Kit  thinking  it  all  over  as  he 
tramped  along  the  arroya  bed,  "  it  either  belongs  to  you, 
or  it  doesn't.  No  man  on  earth  can  buy  it  and  make 
it  stay,  but  if  it  is  yours,  no  man  can  keep  you  from  it 
entirely." 

"What  the  devil  are  you  yammering  about?"  asked 
Pike  grumpily. 

"  Oh,  I  was  just  thinking  of  how  Whitely  exploded  our 
little  balloon  of  hopes  when  he  took  us  over  to  size  up 
the?  prospects  at  Soledad.  I  wonder  if  Perez  has  no  white 
help  at  all  around  that  place.  We  did  not  even  see  the 
foreman." 

"  He's  a  half-breed,  that  Juan  Gonsalvo.  The  Indians 
don't  like  him.  He's  from  down  Hermosillo  way,  and  not 
like  these  Piman  children  of  nature.  He  and  Conrad 
are  up  to  some  devilment,  but  Whitely  thinks  Juan  took 
the  job,  deluded  as  we  are,  with  the  notion  that  a  gold 
mine  was  sticking  up  out  of  the  ground  at  the  Soledad 
corrals,  and  it  was  to  be  his  find.  You  see,  Bub,  that 
story  has  gone  the  length  of  Mexico,  and  even  over  to 
Spain.  Oh,  we  are  not  the  only  trailers  of  ghost  gold ; 
there  are  others!" 

The  slanting  sun  was  sending  shadows  long  on  the 
levels,  and  the  hills  were  looming  to  the  east  in  softest 
tones  of  gray  and  amethyst;  the  whitish  green  of  desert 
growths  lay  between,  and  much  of  brown  desert  yet  to 
cross. 

"We  can't  make  the  foothills  tonight  even  though 
there  is  an  early  moon,"  decided  Kit.  "  But  we  can  break 


IN  THE  PROVINCE  OF  ALTAR  115 

camp  at  dawn  and  make  it  before  the  sun  is  high,  and  the 
water  will  hold  out  that  long/' 

"It  will  hold  for  Buntin'  and  the  mules,  but  what  of 
Pardner?"  asked  the  older  man.  "He's  not  used  to  this 
hard  pan  gravel  scratching." 

"But  he's  thoroughbred,  and  he  can  stand  it  twelve 
hours  more  if  I  can,  can't  you,  old  pal?"  The  tall  roan 
with  the  dot  of  black  between  the  eyes  returned  his 
owner's  caress  by  nosing  his  bare  neck,  and  the  hand 
held  up  to  smooth  the  black  mane. 

"  I'll  be  glad  enough  to  see  him  safe  across  the  border 
in  old  Arizona,"  observed  Pike.  "I  can't  see  how  the 
herders  saved  him  for  you  at  Mesa  Blanca  when  their 
own  stock  was  picked  of  its  best  for  the  various  patriots 
charging  through  the  settlements." 

"  Some  way,  Miguel,  the  Indian  vaquero,  managed  it, 
or  got  his  girl  to  hide  it  out.  Whitely  confessed  that  his 
Indian  cattlemen  are  the  most  loyal  he  can  find  down 
here." 

"  But  it's  not  a  white  man's  land — yet,  and  I'm  down 
right  glad  he's  shipped  his  family  north.  There's  always 
hell  enough  in  Sonora,  but  it's  a  dovecote  to  what  it's 
bound  to  be  before  the  end  comes,  and  so,  it's  no  place  for 
white  men's  wives." 

"  Right  you  are !  Say,  what  was  it  Whitely  heard  down 
in  Sinaloa  concerning  the  Enchanted  Canon  mine  ?  " 

"Oh,  some  old  priest's  tale  —  the  same  dope  we  got 
with  a  different  slant  to  it.  The  gold  nuggets  from  some 
shrine  place  where  the  water  gushed  muy  fuerte,  by  a 
sycamore  tree.  Same  old  nuggets  sent  out  with  the  mes 
sage,  and  after  that  uie  insurrection  of  the  Indians,  and 


116 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

the  priests  who  found  it  never  lived  to  get  out.  Why, 
Bub,  that  is  nearly  two  hundred  years  ago!  Stop  and 
think  of  the  noble  Castilians  going  over  Sonora  with  a 
fine  tooth  comb  for  that  trail  ever  since  and  then  think  of 
the  nerve  of  us! " 

"Well,  I'm  nearer  to  it  anyway  than  the  Dutchman 
who  trekked  in  from  the  south  last  year  with  copies  of 
the  old  mission  reports  as  guide,  for  the  Yaquis  killed 
him,  and  took  his  records,  while  they  hide  my  horse  for 
me." 

"  Huh !  yes,  and  warn  you  to  ride  him  north ! " 

"Correct;  —  but  Pike,  it  was  a  warning,  not  a  threat! 
Oh,  I'm  coming  back  all  right,  all  right!  That  gold  by 
the  hidden  stream  sure  has  got  me  roped  and  hog  tied 
for  keeps." 

Pike  growled  good-natured  disdain  of  his  confidence, 
and  suggested  that  the  stream,  which  was  probably  only  a 
measly  mud  hole,  could  have  dropped  to  purgatory  in  an 
earthquake  tremor  since  those  first  old  mission  days,  or 
filled  up  with  quicksand. 

"  Right  you  are,  Cap.  That's  a  first-rate  idea,"  agreed 
Kit  the  irrepressible.  "  Next  trip  we'll  start  looking  for 
streams  that  were  and  are  not;  we're  in  the  bed  of  one 
now  for  that  matter ! " 

"  Somewhere  ahead  we  should  come  into  the  trail  south 
from  Carracita,"  observed  Pike,  "but  I  reckon  you'd  just 
as  soon  camp  with  Pard  out  of  sight  of  the  trail." 

There  was  silence  for  a  bit  as  they  plodded  on  up  the 
wide  dry  bed  of  the  river,  and  then  Kit  turned,  glancing 
at  the  old  man  keenly. 

"I   didn't   fool   you  much  when   I   called   that  gang 


IN  THE  PROVINCE  OF  ALTAR  117 

'vaqueros,'  did  I?"  he  observed.  "Well,  they  didn't 
look  good  to  me,  and  I  decided  I'd  have  to  fight  for  my 
horse  if  we  crossed  trails,  and  —  it  wastes  a  lot  of  time, 
fighting  does/' 

"  No,  you  didn't  fool  me.  You'd  be  seven  kinds  of  an 
idiot  to  walk  in  this  gully  of  purgatory  when  you  could 
ride  safely  on  the  mesa  above,  so  I  guessed  you  had  a 
hunch  it  was  the  friendly  and  acquisitive  patriots." 

"  Pike,  they  were  between  us  and  the  Palomitas 
rancherias  of  Mesa  Blanca  or  I'd  have  made  a  try  to  get 
through  and  warn  the  Indians  there.  Those  men  had  no 
camp  women  with  them,  so  they  were  not  a  detachment  of 
the  irregular  cavalry,  —  that's  what  puzzles  me.  And 
their  horses  were  fresh.  It's  some  new  devilment." 

"  There's  nothing  new  in  Sonora,  son.  Things  happen 
over  and  over  the  same." 

The  shadows  lengthened,  and  the  blue  range  to  the  east 
had  sharp,  black  edges  against  the  saffron  sky,  and  the 
men  plodding  along  over  sand  and  between  boulders,  fell 
silent  after  the  little  exchange  of  confidence  as  to  choice 
of  trail.  Once  Kit  left  the  gully  and  climbed  the  steep 
grade  to  the  mesa  alone  to  view  the  landscape  over,  but 
slid  and  scrambled  down,  —  hot,  dusty,  and  vituperative. 

"  Not  a  sign  of  life  but  some  carrion  crows  moving 
around  in  the  blue  without  flop  of  a  wing,"  he  grumbled. 
"  Who  started  the  dope  that  mankind  is  the  chosen  of  the 
Lord?  Huh!  we  have  to  scratch  gravel  for  all  we  rake 
in  but  the  birds  of  the  air  have  us  beat  for  desert  travel 
all  right,  all  right!" 

"Well,  Bub,  if  you  saw  no  one's  dust  it  must  be  that 
gang  were  not  headed  for  Palomitas  or  Whitely's." 


118  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

"They  could  strike  Palomitas,  and  circle  over  to  the 
east  road  without  striking  Whitely's  home  corrals,"  said 
Kit  thoughtfully. 

"  Sure  they  could,  but  what's  the  object?  If  it's  cattle 
or  horses  they're  after  the  bigger  ranch  is  the  bigger 
haul?" 

"Yes,  — if  it's  stock  they're  after,"  agreed  Kit  som 
berly. 

"  Why,  lad,  what — what's  got  you  now  ?  " 

"  I  reckon  it's  the  damned  buzzards,"  acknowledged  the 
younger  man.  "I  don't  know  what  struck  me  as  I  sat 
up  there  watching  them.  Maybe  it's  their  blackness, 
maybe  it's  their  provender,  maybe  it  was  just  the  loco  of 
their  endless  drifting  shadows,  but  for  a  minute  up  there 
I  had  an  infernal  sick  feeling.  It's  a  new  one  on  me,  and 
there  was  nothing  I  could  blame  it  on  but  disgust  of  the 
buzzards." 

"You're  goin'  too  shy  on  the  water,  and  never  knew 
before  that  you  had  nerves,"  stated  Pike  sagely.  "  I've 
been  there;  fought  with  a  pardner  once, — Jimmy  Dean, 
till  he  had  to  rope  me.  You  take  a  pull  at  the  water 
bottle,  and  take  it  now." 

Kit  did  so,  but  shook  his  head. 

"It  touches  the  right  spot,  but  it  was  not  a  thirst 
fancy.  It  was  another  thought  and  —  O  Bells  of  Pluto ! 
Pike,  let's  talk  of  something  else!  What  was  that  you 
said  about  the  Sinaloa  priest  story  of  the  red  gold?  You 
said  something  about  a  new  slant  on  the  old  dope." 

"Uri-huh!"  grunted  Pike.  "At  least  it  was  a  new 
slant  to  me.  I've  heard  over  and  over  about  uprising  of 
Indians,  and  death  of  the  two  priests  who  found  their 


IN  THE  PROVINCE  OF  ALTAR  119 

mine,  but  this  Sinaloa  legend  has  it  that  the  Indians  did 
not  kill  the  priests,  but  that  their  gods  did ! " 

"Their  gods?" 

"Yeh,  the  special  ^ods  of  that  region  rose  up  and 
smote  them.  That's  why  the  Indians  barred  out  other 
mission  priests  for  so  long  a  spell  that  no  white  man 
remembered  just  where  the  lost  shrine  of  the  red  gold 
was.  Of  course  it's  all  punk,  Bub,  just  some  story  of  the 
heathen  sheep  to  hide  the  barbecuing  of  their  shepherds." 

"  Maybe  so,  but  I've  as  much  curiosity  as  a  pet  coon. 
What  special  process  did  their  gods  use  to  put  the  friars 
out  of  commission  ?  " 

"  Oh,  lightning.  The  original  priests'  report  had  it  that 
the  red  gold  was  at  some  holy  place  of  the  tribes,  a  shrine 
of  some  sort.  Well,  you  know  the  usual  mission  rule  — 
if  they  can't  wean  the  Indian  from  his  shrine,  they 
promptly  dig  foundations  and  build  a  church  there  under 
heavenly  instructions.  That's  the  story  of  this  shrine  of 
El  Alisal  where  the  priests  started  to  build  a  little  branch 
chapel  or  visita,  for  pious  political  reasons  —  and  built  it 
at  the  gold  shrine,.  It  went  down  in  the  priests'  letter 
or  record  as  gold  of  rose,  a  deep  red  gold.  Well,  under 
protest,  the  Indians  helped  build  a  shack  for  a  church 
altar  under  a  great  aliso  tree  there,  but  when  lightning 
struck  the  priests,  killed  both  and  burned  the  shack,  you 
can  see  what  that  manifestation  would  do  to  the  Indian 
mind." 

Kit  halted,  panting  from  the  heart-wearying  trail,  and 
looked  Pike  over  disgustedly. 

"  Holy  mackerel !  Pike,  haven't  you  any  imagination  ? 
You've  had  this  new  side  to  the  story  for  over  a  month 


120  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

and  never  even  cheeped  about  it!  I  heard  you  and 
Whitely  talking  out  on  the  porch,  but  I  didn't  hear  this ! " 

"  Why,  Bub,  it's  just  the  same  old  story,  everyone  of 
them  have  half  a  dozen  different  sides  to  it." 

"  But  this  one  explains  things,  this  one  has  logic,  this 
one  blazes  a  trail ! "  declared  the  enthusiast.  "  This  one 
explains  good  and  plenty  why  no  Indian  has  ever  cheeped 
about  it,  no  money  could  bribe  him  to  it.  Can't  you  see  ? 
Of  course  that  lightning  was  sent  by  their  wrathy  gods, 
of  course  it  was !  But  do  you  note  that  place  of  the  gold, 
and  place  of  the  shrine  where  the  water  rises,  is  also  some 
point  where  there  is  a  dyke  of  iron  ore  near,  a  magnet 
for  the  lightning?  And  that  is  not  here  in  those  sandy 
mesas  and  rocky  barrancas  —  it's  to  the  west  in  the  hills, 
Pike.  Can't  you  see  that  ?  " 

"Too  far  from  the  old  north  and  south  trail,  Bub. 
There  was  nothing  to  take  padres  so  far  west  to  the  hills. 
The  Indians  didn't  even  live  there;  only  strayed  up  for 
nuts  and  hunting  in  the  season." 

"Save  your  breath!"  jeered  Kit.  "It's  me  to  hike 
back  to  Mesa  Blanca  and  offer  service  at  fifty  dollars  per, 
and  live  like  a  miser  until  we  can  hit  the  trail  again.  I 
may  find  a  tenderfoot  to  buy  that  valley  tract  of  mine  up 
in  Yuma,  and  get  cash  out  of  that.  Oh,  we  will  get  the 
finances  somehow!  I'll  write  a  lawyer  soon  as  we  get 
back  to  Whitely's  — God!  what's  that?" 

They  halted,  holding  breath  to  listen. 

"  A  coyote,"  said  Pike. 

"No,  only  one  animal  screams  like  that  —  a  wildcat 
in  the  timber.  But  it's  no  wildcat." 

Again  the  sound  came.    It  was  either  from  a  distance 


IN  THE  PROVINCE  OF  ALTAR  121 

or  else  muffled  by  the  barrier  of  the  hill,  a  blood-curdling 
scream  of  sickening  terror. 

A  cold  chill  struck  the  men  as  they  looked  at  each 
other. 

"  The  carrion  crows  knew ! "  said  Kit.  "  You  hold  the 
stock,  Pike." 

He  quickly  slipped  his  rifle  from  its  case,  and  started 
up  the  knoll. 

"  The  stock  will  stand,"  said  Pike.     "  I'm  with  you." 

As  the  two  men  ran  upward  to  the  summit  and  away 
from  the  crunching  of  their  own  little  outfit  in  the  bed  of 
the  dry  river,  they  were  struck  by  the  sound  of  clatter 
of  hoofs  and  voices. 

"Bub,  do  you  know  where  we  are?"  asked  Pike  — 
"  this  draw  slants  south  and  has  brought  us  fair  into  the 
Palomitas  trail  where  it  comes  into  the  old  Yaqui  trail, 
and  on  south  to  hell." 

"To  hell  it  is,  if  it's  the  slavers  again  after  women," 
said  Kit.  "  Come  quiet." 

They  reached  the  summit  where  cacti  and  greasewood 
served  as  shield,  and  slightly  below  them  they  saw,  against 
the  low  purple  hills,  clouds  of  dust  making  the  picture 
like  a  vision  and  not  a  real  thing,  a  line  of  armed  horse 
men  as  outpost  guards,  and  men  with  roped  arms 
stumbling  along  on  foot  slashed  at  occasionally  with  a 
reata  to  hasten  their  pace.  Women  and  girls  were  there, 
cowed  and  drooping,  with  torn  garments  and  bare  feet. 
Forty  prisoners  in  all  Kit  counted  of  those  within  range, 
ere  the  trail  curved  around  the  bend  of  a  hill. 

"  But  that  scream  ? "  muttered  Kit.  "  All  those  women 
are  silent  as  death,  but  that  scream?"  Then  he  saw. 


122 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

One  girl  was  in  the  rear,  apart  from  the  rest  of  the 
group.  A  blond-bearded  man  spurred  his  horse  against 
her,  and  a  guard  lashed  at  her  to  keep  her  behind.  Her 
scream  of  terror  was  lest  she  be  separated  from  that  most 
woeful  group  of  miserables.  The  horse  was  across  the 
road,  blocking  it,  as  the  man  with  the  light  beard  slid 
from  the  saddle  and  caught  her. 

Kit's  gun  was  thrown  into  position  as  Pike  caught  his 
hand. 

"No!"  he  said.     "Look  at  her!" 

For  the  Indian  girl  was  quicker  far.  From  the  belt  of 
her  assailant  she  grasped  a  knife  and  lunged  at  his  face 
as  he  held  her.  His  one  hand  went  to  his  cheek  where 
the  blood  streamed,  and  his  other  to  his  revolver. 

But  even  there  she  was  before  him,  for  she  held  the 
knife  in  both  hands  against  her  breast,  and  threw  herself 
forward  in  the  haze  of  dust. 

The  other  guard  dismounted  and  stared  at  the  still 
figure  on  the  trail,  then  kicked  her  over  until  he  could  see 
her  face.  One  look  was  enough.  He  jerked  the  knife 
from  the  dead  body,  wiped  it  on  her  mania,  and  turned 
to  tie  a  handkerchief  over  the  cheek  of  the  wounded 
horseman. 

Kit  muttered  an  oath  of  horror,  and  hastily  drew  the 
field  glass  from  its  case  to  stare  at  the  man  whose  beard, 
a  false  one,  had  been  torn  off  in  the  struggle.  It  was  not 
easy  to  re-adjust  it  so  that  it  would  not  interfere  with  the 
bandage,  and  thus  he  had  a  very  fair  view  of  the  man's 
features,  and  his  thoughts  were  of  Billie's  words  to  Con 
rad  concerning  slave  raids  in  Sonora.  Had  Billie  really 
suspected,  or  had  she  merely  connected  his  Mexican 


IN  THE  PROVINCE  OF  ALTAR  123 

friends  with  reports  of  raids  for  girls  in  the  little  Indian 
pueblos  ? 

Pike  reached  for  the  glass,  but  by  the  time  he  could 
focus  it  to  fit  his  eyes,  the  man  had  re-mounted,  riding 
south,  and  there  was  only  the  dead  girl  left  there  where 
she  fell,  an  Indian  girl  they  both  knew,  Anita,  daughter 
of  Miguel,  the  major-domo  of  Mesa  Blanca,  whose  own 
little  rancheria  was  with  the  Pimans  at  Palomitas. 

"  Look  above,  Cap,"  said  Kit. 

Above  two  pair  of  black  wings  swept  in  graceful  curves 
against  the  saffron  sky  —  waiting! 

Rhodes  went  back  to  the  outfit  for  pick  and  shovel, 
and  when  twilight  fell  they  made  a  grave  there  in  the 
dusky  canon  of  the  desert 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE  SLAVE  TRAIL 

THEY  camped  that  night  in  the  barranca,  and  next 
morning  a  thin  blue  smoke  a  mile  away  drew  Kit 
out  on  the  roan  even  in  the  face  of  the  heat  to  be,  and 
the  water  yet  to  find.  He  hoped  to  discover  someone 
who  had  been  more  fortunate  in  escape. 

He  found  instead  an  Indian  he  knew,  one  whose  gray 
hair  was  matted  with  blood  and  who  stood  as  if  dazed  by 
terror  at  sound  of  hoofs.  It  was  Miguel,  the  Pima  head 
man  of  Mesa  Blanca. 

"Why,  Miguel,  don't  you  know  me?"  asked  Kit. 

The  eyes  of  the  man  had  a  strange  look,  and  he  did 
not  answer.  But  he  did  move  hesitatingly  to  the  horse 
and  stroked  it. 

"Caballo,"  he  said.     "  Muy  bueno,  caballo." 

"Yes/'  agreed  Pardner's  rider,  "very  good  always." 

"  Si  senor,  always." 

Kit  swung  from  the  saddle,  and  patted  the  old  man's 
shoulder.  He  was  plainly  dazed  from  either  a  hurt,  or 
shock,  and  would  without  doubt  die  if  left  alone. 

"Come,  you  ride,  and  we'll  go  to  camp,  then  find 
water,"  suggested  Kit.  "Camp  here  no  good.  Come 
help  me  find  water." 

That  appeal  penetrated  the  man's  mind  more  clearly. 

124 


THE  SLAVE  TRAIL 125 

Miguel  had  been  the  well-trusted  one  of  the  Indian 
vaqueros,  used  to  a  certain  dependence  put  upon  him, 
and  he  straightened  his  shoulders  for  a  task. 

"Si  sefior,  a  good  padrone  are  you,  and  water  it  will 
be  found  for  you."  He  was  about  to  mount  when  he 
halted,  bewildered,  and  looked  about  him  as  if  in  search. 

"  All  —  my  people  —  "  he  said  brokenly.  "  My  children 
of  me  —  my  child!" 

Kit  knew  that  his  most  winning  child  lay  newly  cov 
ered  under  the  sand  and  stones  he  had  gathered  by  moon 
light  to  protect  the  grave  from  coyotes. 

But  there  was  a  rustle  back  of  him  and  a  black-eyed 
elf,  little  more  than  a  child,  was  standing  close,  shaking 
the  sand  from  her  hair. 

"I  am  hearing  you  speak.  I  know  it  is  you,  and  I 
come,"  she  said. 

It  was  Tula,  the  younger  daughter  of  Miguel,  —  one 
who  had  carried  them  water  from  the  well  on  her  steady 
head,  and  played  with  the  babies  on  the  earthen  floors  at 
the  pueblo  of  Palomitas. 

But  the  childish  humors  were  gone,  and  her  face  wore 
the  Indian  mask  of  any  age. 

"Tell  me/'  said  Kit. 

"  It  is  at  Palomitas.  I  was  in  the  willows  by  the  well 
when  they  came,  Juan  Gonsalvo  and  El  Aleman,  and 
strange  soldiers.  All  the  women  scream  and  make  battle, 
also  the  men,  and  that  is  when  my  father  is  hurt  in  the 
head,  that  is  when  they  are  taking  my  mother,  and  Anita, 
my  sister.  Some  are  hiding.  And  El  Aleman  and  Juan 
Gonsalvo  make  the  count,  and  sent  the  men  for  search. 
That  is  how  it  was." 


126 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

"  Why  do  you  say  El  Aleman  ?  "  asked  Rhodes. 

"  I  seeing  him  other  time  with  Don  Jose,  and  hearing 
how  he  talk.  Also  Anita  knowing  him,  and  scream  his 
name — '  Don  Adolf ! '  —  when  he  catch  her.  Juan  Gon- 
salvo  has  a  scarf  tied  over  the  face — all  but  the  eyes,  but 
the  Don  Adolf  has  the  face  now  covered  with  hairs  and 
I  seeing  him.  They  take  all  the  people.  My  father  is 
hurt,  but  lives.  He  tries  to  follow  and  is  much  sick.  My 
mother  is  there,  and  Anita,  my  sister,  is  there.  He  thinks 
it  better  to  find  them  —  it  is  his  head  is  sick.  He  walks 
far  beside  me,  and  does  not  know  me." 

"  You  are  hungry?  " 

She  showed  him  a  few  grains  of  parched  corn  tied  up 
in  the  corner  of  her  manta.  "Water  I  have,  and  roots 
of  the  sand." 

"  Water, "  repeated  Miguel  mechanically.  "  Yes,  I  am 
the  one  who  knows  where  it  comes.  I  am  the  one  to 
show  you." 

The  eyes  of  the  girl  met  Kit's  gaze  of  understanding. 

"  The  hurt  is  of  his  head,"  she  stated  again.  "  In  the 
night  he  made  speech  of  strange  old-time  things,  secret 
things,  and  of  fear." 

"  So  ?  Well,  it  was  a  bad  night  for  old  men  and  Indian 
girls  in  the  desert.  Let's  be  moving." 

Tula  picked  up  her  hidden  wicker  water  bottle  and 
trudged  on  sandaled  feet  beside  Kit.  Miguel  went  into  a 
heap  in  the  saddle,  dazed,  muttering  disjointed  Indian 
words,  only  one  was  repeated  often  enough  to  make  an 
impression,  —  it  was  Cajame. 

"What  is  Cajame?"  he  asked  the  girl,  and  she  gave 
him  a  look  of  tolerance. 


THE  SLAVE  TRAIL  127 

"  He  was  of  chiefs  the  most  great.  He  was  killed  for 
his  people.  He  was  the  father  of  my  father." 

Kit  tried  to  recall  where  he  had  heard  the  name,  but 
failed.  No  one  had  chanced  to  mention  that  Miguel,  the 
peaceful  Piman,  had  any  claims  on  famous  antecedents. 
He  had  always  seemed  a  grave,  silent  man,  intent  only  on 
herding  the  stock  and  caring  for  the  family,  at  the  little 
cluster  of  adobes  by  the  well  of  Palomitas.  It  was  about 
two  miles  from  the  ranch  house,  but  out  of  sight.  An 
ancient  river  hill  terminated  in  a  tall  white  butte  at  the 
junction  of  two  arroyas,  and  the  springs  feeding  them 
were  the  deciding  influence  regarding  location  of  dwell 
ings.  Rhodes  could  quickly  perceive  how  a  raid  could 
be  made  on  Palomitas  and,  if  no  shots  were  fired,  not  be 
suspected  at  the  ranch  house  of  Mesa  Blanca. 

The  vague  sentences  of  Miguel  were  becoming  more 
connected,  and  Kit,  holding  him  in  the  saddle,  was  much 
puzzled  by  some  of  them. 

"It  is  so,  and  we  are  yet  dying,"  he  muttered  as  he 
swayed  in  the  saddle.  "  We,  the  Yaqui,  are  yet  dumb  as 
our  fathers  bade.  But  it  is  the  end,  senor,  and  the  red 
gold  of  Alisal  is  our  own,  and " 

Then  'his  voice  dwindled  away  in  mutterings  and 
Rhodes  saw  that  the  Indian  girl  was  very  alert,  but 
watching  him  rather  than  her  father  as  she  padded  along 
beside  him. 

"Where  is  it — Alisal?"  he  asked  carelessly,  and  her 
velvet-black  eyes  narrowed. 

"I  think  not  anyone  is  knowing.  It  is  also  evil  to 
speak  of  that  place,"  she  said. 

"What  makes  the  evil?" 


128 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

"Maybe  so  the  padres.  I  no  knowing,  what  you 
think?" 

But  they  had  reached  the  place  of  camp  where  Cap 
Pike  had  the  packs  on  the  animals,  waiting  and  restless. 

"  Well,  you're  a  great  little  collector,  Bub,"  he  observed. 
"You  start  out  on  the  bare  sand  and  gravel  and  raise  a 
right  pert  family.  Who's  your  friend  ?  " 

Despite  his  cynical  comment,  he  was  brisk  enough  with 
help  when  Miguel  slid  to  the  ground,  ashen  gray,  and 
senseless. 

"Now  we  are  up  against  trouble,  with  an  old  cripple 
and  a  petticoat  to  tote,  and  water  the  other  side  of  the 
range." 

But  he  poured  a  little  of  the  precious  fluid  down  the 
throat  of  the  Indian,  who  recovered,  but  stared  about 
vacantly. 

"  Yes,  senor,"  he  said  nodding  his  head  when  his  eyes 
rested  on  Rhodes,  "as  you  say — it  is  for  the  water  —  as 
you  say — it  is  the  end  —  for  the  Yaqui.  Dead  is  Cajame 
—  die  all  we  by  the  Mexican !  To  you,  senor,  my  child, 
and  El  Alisal  of  the  gold  of  the  rose.  So  it  will  be, 
senor.  It  is  the  end  —  the  water  is  there,  senor.  It  is 
to  you." 

"  That's  funny,"  remarked  Pike,  "  he's  gone  loony  and 
talking  of  old  chief  Cajame  of  the  Yaquis,  He  was 
hanged  by  the  Mexican  government  for  protesting  against 
loot  by  the  officials.  A  big  man  he  was,  nothing  trifling 
about  Cajame!  That  old  Indian  had  eighty  thousand  in 
gold  in  a  government  bank.  Naturally  the  Christian 
rulers  couldn't  stand  for  that  sort  of  shiftlessness  in  a 
heathen!  Years  ago  it  was  they  burned  him  out,  des- 


THE  SLAVE  TRAIL  129 

troyed  his  house  and  family;  —  the  whole  thing  was 
hellish." 

The  girl  squatting  in  the  sand,  never  took  her  eyes  off 
Pike's  face.  It  was  not  so  much  the  words,  but  the  tone 
and  expression  she  gave  note  to,  and  then  she  arose  and 
moved  over  beside  her  father. 

"  No,"  she  said  stolidly,  "  it  is  his  families  here,  Yaqui 
me  —  no  Pima!  Hiding  he  was  when  young,  hiding  with 
Pima  men  all  safe.  The  padre  of  me  is  son  to  Cajame, 
—  only  to  you  it  is  told,  you  Americano !  " 

Her  eyes  were  pitiful  in  their  strained  eagerness,  striv 
ing  with  all  her  shocked  troubled  soul  to  read  the  faces 
of  the  two  men,  and  staking  all  her  hopes  of  safety  in 
her  trust. 

"You  bet  we're  Americano,  Tula,  and  so  will  you  be 
when  we  get  you  over  the  border,"  stated  Rhodes  reck 
lessly.  "I  don't  know  how  we  are  going  to  do  it,  Cap, 
but  I  swear  I'm  not  going  to  let  a  plucky  little  girl 
like  that  go  adrift  to  be  lifted  by  the  next  gang  of  raiders. 
We  need  a  mascot  anyway,  and  she  is  going  to  be  it." 

"You're  a  nice  sort  of  seasoned  veteran,  Bub,"  ad 
mitted  Pike  dryly,  "  but  in  adopting  a  family  it  might  be 
as  well  to  begin  with  a  he  mascot  instead  of  what  you've 
picked.  A  young  filly  like  that  might  turn  hoodoo." 

"  I  reckon  I'd  have  halted  for  a  sober  second  thought  if 
it  hadn't  been  for  that  other  girl  under  the  stones  down 
there,"  agreed  Rhodes.  "But  shucks!  —  with  all  the 
refugees  we're  feeding  across  the  line  where's  the  obstacle 
to  this  one?" 

The  old  prospector  was  busy  with  the  wounded  head 
of  the  Indian  and  had  no  reply  ready,  but  shook  his  head 


130 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

ominously.  Rhodes  scowled  and  began  uncoiling  a  reata 
in  case  it  would  be  needed  to  tie  Miguel  in  the  saddle. 

"We've  got  to  get  some  hustle  to  this  outfit,"  he  ob 
served  glancing  at  the  sun.  "  It's  too  far  to  take  them 
back  to  Whitely's,  and  water  has  to  be  had.  We  are 
really  nearer  to  Soledad !  " 

The  Indian  girl  came  closer  to  him,  speaking  in  a  low, 
level  manner,  strange  and  secretive,  yet  not  a  whisper. 

"He  does  know  —  and  water  is  there  at  that  place," 
she  said.  "  In  the  night  I  am  hearing  him  speak  all  what 
the  ancients  hide.  He  no  can  walk  to  that  place,  maybe  I 
no  can  walk,  but  go  you  for  the  gold  in  the  hidden  canon. 
You  are  Americano,  —  strong,  —  is  it  not  ?  A  brave  heart 
and  much  of  gold  of  rose  would  bring  safe  again  the 
mother  of  me  and  my  sister !  All  this  I  listen  to  in  the 
night.  For  them  the  gold  of  rose  by  the  hidden  water  is 
to  be  uncovered  again.  But  see,  his  hands  are  weak,  his 
head  is  like  the  nino  in  the  reed  basket.  A  stronger  heart 
must  find  the  way — it  is  you." 

Lowly,  haltingly,  she  kept  on  that  level-voiced  deci 
sion.  It  was  evident  that  the  ravings  of  her  father 
through  the  long  hours  of  the  dreadful  night  had  filled 
her  mind  with  his  one  desire:  to  dare  the  very  gods 
that  the  red  gold  might  be  uncovered  again,  and  purchase 
freedom  for  the  Indians  on  the  exile  road  to  the  coast. 

So  low  were  her  words  that  even  Cap  Pike,  a  rod  away, 
only  heard  the  voice,  but  not  the  subject.  It  was  further 
evident  that  she  meant  but  the  one  man  to  hear.  Pike 
had  white  hair  and  to  her  mind  was,  like  her  father,  to 
be  protected  from  responsibilities,  but  Rhodes  loomed 
strong  and  kind,  and  braced  by  youth  for  any  task. 


THE  SLAVE  TRAIL  131 

Rhodes  looked  at  her  pityingly,  and  patted  her  head. 

"I  reckon  we're  all  a  little  loco,  kid,"  he  observed. 
"You're  so  paralyzed  with  the  hell  you  saw,  and  his 
ravings  that  you  think  his  dope  of  the  gold  is  all  gospel, 
but  it's  only  a  dream,  sister,  —  a  sick  man's  fancy,  though 
you  sure  had  me  going  for  a  minute,  plum  hypnotized 
by  the  picture." 

"  It  is  to  hide  always,"  she  said.  "  No  man  must  know. 
No  other  eyes  must  see,  only  you ! " 

"Sure,"  he  agreed. 

"You  promising  all?" 

"Sure  again!  Just  to  comfort  you  I  promise  that 
when  I  find  the  gold  of  El  Alisal  I  will  use  it  to  help  get 
your  people." 

"Half,"  she  decided.    "Half  to  you." 

"Half  it  is!  You're  a  great  little  planner  for  your 
size,  kid.  Too  bad  it's  only  a  dream." 

Cap  Pike  rose  to  his  feet,  and  gave  a  hand  to  Miguel, 
who  reeled,  and  then  steadied  himself  gradually. 

"Most  thanks,  senor,"  he  whispered,  "and  when  we 
reach  the  water " 

They  helped  him  into  the  saddle,  and  Rhodes  walked 
beside,  holding  him  as  he  swayed. 

They  passed  the  new-made  grave  in  the  sand,  and 
Rhodes  turned  to  the  girl.  "Sister,"  he  said,  "lift  two 
stones  and  add  to  that  pile  there,  one  for  you  and  one 
for  your  father.  Also  look  around  and  remember  this 
place." 

"I  am  no  forgetting1  it,"  she  said  as  she  lifted  a  stone 
and  placed  it  as  he  told  her.  "  It  is  here  the  exile  trail. 
I  mark  the  place  where  you  take  for  me  the  Americano 


132  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

road,  and  not  the  south  road  of  the  lost  So  it  is,  —  these 
stone  make  witness." 

"I'll  be  shot  if  I  don't  believe  you  are  old  Cajames 
stock,"  said  Cap  Pike  staring  at  her,  and  then  meeting 
the  gaze  of  Rhodes  in  wonder  at  her  clear-cut  summing 
up  of  the  situation.  "But  he  was  a  handful  for  the  gov 
ernment  in  his  day,  Bub,  and  I'm  hornswaggled  if  I'd 
pick  out  his  breed  for  a  kindergarten." 

The  girl  heard  and  understood  at  least  the  jocular  tenor 
of  his  meaning,  but  no  glance  in  his  direction  indicated 
it.  She  placed  the  second  stone,  and  then  in  obedience 
to  Rhodes  she  looked  back  the  way  she  had  come  where 
the  desert  growth  crisped  in  the  waves  of  heat.  On  one 
side  lay  the  low,  cactus-dotted  hillocks,  and  on  the  other 
the  sage  green  and  dull  yellow  faded  into  the  blue  mists 
of  the  eastern  range. 

"  I  am  no  forgetting  it,  this  place  ever,"  she  said  and 
then  lifted  her  water  bottle  and  trudged  on  beside  Rhodes. 
"  It  is  where  my  trail  begins,  with  you." 

Cape  Pike  grinned  at  the  joke  on  the  boy,  for  it  looked 
as  if  the  Yaqui  girl  were  adopting  him! 


CHAPTER  IX 

A    MEETING   AT   YAQUI   WELL 

GOOD  luck  was  with  them,  for  the  water  hole  in 
Yaqui  canon  had  not  been  either  muddied  or  ex 
hausted,  evidence  that  the  raiders  had  not  ranged  that 
way.  The  sorry  looking  quartette  fairly  staggered  into 
the  little  canon,  and  the  animals  were  frantic  with  desire 
to  drink  their  fill. 

"  I  was  so  near  fried  that  the  first  gallon  fairly  sizzled 
down  my  gullet,"  confessed  Cap  Pike  after  a  long  glorious 
hour  of  rest  under  the  alamos  with  saturated  handker 
chief  over  his  burning  eyes.  "  That  last  three  mile  stretch 
was  hell's  back  yard  for  me.  How  you  reckon  the  little 
trick  over  there  ever  stood  it?" 

The  Indian  girl  was  resting  near  her  father,  and  every 
little  while  putting  water  on  his  face  and  hands.  When 
she  heard  the  voice  of  Pike  she  sat  up,  and  then  started 
quietly  to  pick  up  dry  yucca  stalks  and  bits  of  brushwood 
for  a  fire. 

"Look  at  that,  would  you,  Bub,"  commented  Pike, 
"  the  minute  she  sees  you  commence  to  open  the  cook  kit 
she  is  rustling  for  firewood.  That  little  devil  is  made 
of  whalebone  for  toughness.  Why,  even  the  burros  are 
played  out,  but  she  is  fresh  as  a  daisy  after  a  half  hour's 
rest!" 

133 


134 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

Rhodes  noted  that  the  excitement  by  which  she  had 
been  swayed  to  confidence  in  the  morning  had  apparently 
burned  out  on  the  trail,  for  she  spoke  no  more,  only 
served  silently  as  generations  of  her  mothers  of  the  desert 
had  done,  and  waited,  crouched  back  of  her  father,  while 
the  men  ate  the  slender  meal  of  came  seco,  atole,  and 
coffee. 

Cap  Pike  suggested  that  she  join  them,  but  it  was  her 
adopted  guardian  who  protested. 

"  We  won't  change  their  ways  of  women/'  he  decided. 
"  I  notice  that  when  white  folks  try  to  they  are  seldom 
understood.  How  do  we  know  whether  that  attitude  is 
an  humble  effacement,  or  whether  the  rank  of  that  mar 
tyred  ancester  exalts  her  too  greatly  to  allow  equality 
with  white  stragglers  of  the  range?" 

Cap  Pike  snorted  disdain. 

"You'll  be  making  a  Pocahontas  of  her  if  you  keep  on 
that  'noble  Injun '  strain,"  he  remarked. 

"Far  be  it  from  me!  Pocahontas  was  a  gay  little 
hanger-on  of  the  camps,  —  not  like  this  silent  owl!  Her 
mind  seems  older  than  her  years,  and  just  notice  her 
care  of  him,  will  you?  I  reckon  he'd  have  wandered 
away  and  died  but  for  her  grip  on  him  through  the  night." 

Miguel  sank  into  sleep  almost  at  once  after  eating,  and 
the  girl  waved  over  him  an  alamo  branch  as  a  fan  with 
one  hand,  and  ate  with  the  other,  while  Rhodes  looked 
over  the  scant  commissary  outfit,  reckoning  mouths  to 
feed  and  distance  to  supplies.  The  moon  was  at  full, 
and  night  travel  would  save  the  stock  considerably.  By 
the  following  noon  they  could  reach  ranches  either  west 
or  north.  He  was  conscious  of  the  eyes  of  the  girl  ever 


A  MEETING  AT  YAQUI  WELL  135 

on  his  face  in  mute  question,  and  while  Pike  bathed  the 
backs  of  the  animals,  and  led  each  to  stand  in  the  oozy 
drainage  of  the  meager  well,  she  came  close  to  Kit  and 
spoke. 

"  You  say  it  is  a  dream,  senor,  and  you  laugh,  but  the 
red  gold  of  El  Alisal  is  no  dream.  He,  my  father  has  said 
it,  and  after  that,  I,  Tula,  may  show  it  to  you.  Even  my 
mother  does  not  know,  but  I  know.  I  am  of  the  blood  to 
know.  You  will  take  him  there,  for  it  is  a  medicine  place, 
much  medicine!  He  has  said  it  to  you,  senor,  and  that 
gift  is  great.  You  will  come,  alone, — with  us,  senor? " 

Kit  smiled  at  her  entreaty,  patted  her  hair,  and  dug 
out  a  worn  deck  of  cards  and  shuffled  them,  slowly  re 
garding  the  sleeping  Indian  the  while. 

"  What's  on  your  mind  ?  "  demanded  Cap  Pike,  return 
ing  with  his  white  locks  dripping  from  a  skimpy  bath. 
"  Our  grub  stake  is  about  gone,  and  you've  doubled  the 
outfit.  What's  the  next  move?" 

"  I'm  playing  a  game  in  futures  with  Miguel,"  stated 
Kit,  shuffling  the  cards  industriously. 

"  Sounds  loco  to  me,  Bub,"  observed  the  veteran. 
"  Present  indications  are  not  encouraging  as  to  futures 
there.  Can't  you  see  that  he's  got  a  jar  from  which  his 
mind  isn't  likely  to  recover?  Not  crazy,  you  know,  not 
a  lunatic  or  dangerous,  but  just  jarred  from  Pima  man 
back  to  Yaqui  child.  That's  about  the  way  I  reckon  it." 

"  You  reckon  right,  and  it's  the  Yaqui  child  mind  I'm 
throwing  the  cards  for.  Best  two  out  of  three  wins." 

"What  the " 

"  Highest  cards  for  K.  Rhodes,  and  I  hike  across  the 
border  with  our  outfit ;  highest  cards  for  Miguel  and  my 


136 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

trail  is  blazed  for  the  red  gold  of  Alisal.  This  is  Miguel's 
hand  —  ace  high  for  Miguel ! " 

Again  he  shuffled  and  cut. 

"  A  saucy  queen,  and  red  at  that !    Oh,  you  charmer ! " 

"You  got  to  hustle  to  beat  that,  Bub.  Go  on,  don't 
be  stingy." 

Rhodes  cut  the  third  time,  then  stared  and  whistled. 

"  The  cards  are  stacked  by  the  Indian !  All  three  cov 
ered  with  war  paint.  What's  the  use  in  a  poor  stray 
white  bucking  against  that  ?" 

He  picked  out  the  cards  and  placed  them  side  by  side, 
ace,  king  and  queen  of  hearts. 

"  Three  aces  could  beat  them,"  suggested  Pike.  "  Go 
on  Bub,  shuffle  them  up,  don't  be  a  piker." 

Rhodes  did,  and  cut  ten  of  clubs. 

"Not  even  the  right  color,"  he  lamented.  "Nothing 
less  than  two  aces  for  salvation,  and  I  —  don't — get  — 
them!" 

A  lonely  deuce  fell  on  the  sand,  and  Rhodes  eyed  it 
sulkily  as  he  rolled  a  cigarette. 

"  You  poor  little  runt,"  he  apostrophized  the  harmless 
two-spot.  "  You've  kicked  me  out  of  the  frying  pan  into 
the  fire,  and  a  good  likely  blaze  at  that ! " 

"Don't  reckon  I  care  to  go  any  deeper  into  trouble 
than  what  we've  found,"  decided  Pike.  "Ordinary  In 
dian  scraps  are  all  in  the  day's  work  —  same  with 
a  Mexican  outfit  —  but,  Bub,  this  slave-hunting  graft 
game  with  the  state  soldiery  doing  the  raiding  is  too 
strong  a  combine  for  two  lone  rangers  to  buck  against. 
Me  for  the  old  U.  S.  border,  and  get  some  of  this  devilish 
word  to  the  peace  advocates  at  home." 


A  MEETING  AT  YAQUI  WELL  137 

"  They  wouldn't  believe  you,  and  only  about  two  papers 
along  the  border  would  dare  print  it,"  observed  Rhodes. 
"  Every  time  a  band  of  sunny  Mexicans  loot  a  ranch  or 
steal  women,  the  word  goes  north  that  again  the  blood 
thirsty  Yaquis  are  on  the  warpath!  Those  poor  devils 
never  leave  their  fields  of  their  own  will,  and  don't  know 
why  the  Americans  have  a  holy  dread  of  them.  Yet  the 
Yaqui  is  the  best  worker  south  of  the  line." 

"If  he  wasn't  the  price  wouldn't  be  worth  the  slave 
trader's  valuable  time,"  commented  Pike. 

The  Indian  girl  made  a  quick  gesture  of  warning,  just 
a  sweep  outward  of  her  hand  along  the  ground.  She 
didn't  even  look  at  them,  but  down  the  arroya,  the  trail 
they  had  come. 

"  Caballos,  hombres!"  she  muttered  in  her  throat. 

"  The  kid's  right,  —  hear  them ! "  said  Rhodes,  and  then 
he  looked  at  him,  and  made  a  strange  movement  of  eyes 
and  head  to  direct  the  attention  back  of  her  in  the 
thicket  of  cactus  and  squat  greasewood.  He  did  not  look 
at  once,  but  finally  with  a  circular  sweep  of  the  locality, 
he  saw  the  light  glint  on  a  gun  barrel  along  the  edge  of 
a  little  mesa  above  them. 

"Nice  friendly  attention,"  he  observed.  "Someone 
sizing  us  up.  Time  to  hit  the  trail  anyway,  Cap ;  —  to  get 
through  on  the  grub  we  have  to  travel  tonight." 

He  rose  and  handed  the  water  bottles  to  the  girl  to 
fill,  while  he  tightened  cinches. 

"  It's  a  long  day's  trip,  Cap,"  he  stated  thoughtfully, 
"  a  long  day  out  to  Carrizal,  and  a  long  one  back  to  Mesa 
Blanca.  I'll  divide  the  dust  and  the  grub  fifty-fifty,  and 
you  get  out  to  some  base  of  supplies.  I'd  rather  you'd 


138 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

take  Pardner,  and  keep  on  going  across  the  line.  The 
trail  is  clear  from  here  for  you,  and  enough  water  holes 
and  settlements  for  you  to  get  through.  I  don't  think 
Pardner  would  last  for  the  back  trip,  but  you  can  save  him 
by  riding  at  night;  the  burro  and  mule  are  best  for  us. 
Here's  the  dust." 

While  Pike  had  been  talking  of  crossing  the  border, 
Kit  had  been  rapidly  readjusting  the  provision  so  that 
the  old  chap  had  enough  to  carry  him  to  the  first  settle 
ment,  and  the  gold  dust  would  more  than  pay  for  pro 
vision  the  rest  of  the  way. 

"Why— say,  Bub!"  remonstrated  Pike.  "You're  so 
sudden!  I  don't  allow  to  leave  you  by  your  lonesomes 
like  this.  Why,  I  had  planned " 

"There's  nothing  else  to  do,"  decided  Rhodes  crisply. 
"If  you  don't  beat  it  with  Pardner,  we'll  lose  him,  sure! 
I'm  going  to  take  these  Indians  back,  and  you  can  help 
most  by  waiting  north  of  the  line  till  you  hear  from  me. 
I'll  get  word  to  you  at  Granados.  So,  if  there  should  be 
any  trouble  with  these  visitors  of  ours,  your  trail  is 
clear;  —  savvy?" 

Two  men  rode  into  view  in  the  bend  of  the  arroya.  A 
cartridge  belt  across  each  shoulder,  and  one  around  each 
waist,  was  the  most  important  part  of  their  equipment. 

"Buenos  dias,  sefiors,"  said  one  politely,  while  his  lit 
tle  black  eyes  roved  quickly  over  the  group.  "  Is  there 
still  water  to  be  found  in  the  well  here?  Dios!  it  is  the 
heat  of  hell  down  there  in  the  valley." 

"At  your  service,  sefior,  is  water  fresh  drawn,"  said 
Rhodes,  and  turned  to  the  girl,  "Oija,  Tulita !  — water 
for  the  gentlemen.  You  ride  far,  sefior?" 


A  MEETING  AT  YAQUI  WELL  139 

"From  Soledad  wells." 

"  Yes,  I  know  the  brand,"  remarked  Rhodes. 

"This  is  a  good  season  in  which  to  avoid  too  much 
knowledge,  or  too  good  a  memory,  sefior,"  observed  the 
man  who  had  not  spoken.  "  Many  herds  will  change  hands 
without  markets  before  tranquility  is  over  in  Mexico." 

"I  believe  you,  sefior,  and  we  who  have  nothing  will 
be  the  lucky  ones,"  agreed  Rhodes,  regarding  the  man 
with  a  new  interest.  He  was  not  handsome,  but  there 
was  a  something  quick  and  untamed  in  his  keen,  black 
eyes,  and  though  the  mouth  had  cruel  hard  lines,  his  tone 
was  certainly  friendly,  yet  dominating. 

"What  have  you  here?"  he  asked  with  a  gesture  to 
ward  Miguel. 

"  My  Indian  who  tried  to  save  his  women  from  slav 
ers,  and  was  left  for  dead,"  stated  Rhodes  frankly. 

"And  this?" 

He  pointed  to  the  girl  filling  again  the  water  bottles. 

"  She  is  mine,  senor.    We  go  to  our  own  homes." 

"  Hum !  you  should  be  enlisted  in  the  fights  and  become 
capitan,  but  these  would  drop  by  the  trail  if  you  left 
them.  Well,  another  time  perhaps,  sefior!  For  the 
water  many  thanks.  Adios! "  and  with  wave  of  the  hand 
they  clattered  down  the  arroya. 

"  Queer,"  muttered  Rhodes,  "  did  you  catch  that  second 
chap  signal  to  the  gun  man  in  the  cactus?  He  craw 
fished  back  over  the  mesa  and  faded  away." 

"They  didn't  come  for  water  alone  —  some  scouten' 
party  trailin'  every  sign  found,"  decided  Pike.  "I'll 
bet  they  had  us  circled  before  the  two  showed  them 
selves.  \Vonder  who  they  are  after?" 


140  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

"Anyway  they  didn't  think  us  worth  while  gathering 
in,  which  is  a  comfort.  That  second  fellow  looks  like 
someone  I've  crossed  trails  with,  but  I  can't  place  him." 

"They'll  place  you  all  right,  all  right !"  prophesied 
Pike  darkly,  "you  and  your  interesting  family  won't 
need  a  brand." 

Rhodes  stared  at  him  a  moment  and  then  grinned. 

"  Right  you  are,  Cap.  Wouldn't  it  be  pie  for  the  gos 
sips  to  slice  up  for  home  consumption  ?  " 

He  kept  on  grinning  as  he  looked  at  the  poor  bit 
of  human  flotsam  whom  he  had  dubbed  "the  owl"  be 
cause  of  her  silence  and  her  eyes.  She  aroused  Miguel 
without  words,  watching  him  keenly  for  faintest  sign  of 
recovery.  The  food  and  sleep  had  refreshed  him  in  body, 
but  the  mind  was  far  away.  To  the  girl  he  gave  no 
notice,  and  after  a  long  bewildered  stare  at  Rhodes  he 
smiled  in  a  deprecating  way. 

"Your  pardon,  Don  Jose,  that  I  outsleep  the  camp/' 
he  muttered  haltingly.  "It  is  a  much  sickness  of  the 
head  to  me." 

"  For  that  reason  must  you  ride  slowly  today,"  stated 
Rhodes  with  quick  comprehension  of  the  groping  mind, 
though  the  "  Don  Jose  "  puzzled  him,  and  at  first  chance 
he  loitered  behind  with  the  girl  and  questioned  her. 

"How  makes  itself  that  I  must  know  all  the  people 
in  the  world  before  I  was  here  on  earth?*'  she  asked 
morosely?  "Me  he  does  not  know,  Don  Jose  is  of  Sole- 
dad  and  is  of  your  tallness,  so " 

"  Know  you  the  man  who  came  for  water  at  the  canon 
well?"  he  asked,  and  she  looked  at  him  quickly  and 
away. 


A  MEETING  AT  YAQUI  WELL  141 

"The  name  of  the  man  was  not  spoke  by  him,  also  he 
said  a  true  word  of  brands  on  herds  —  these  days." 

"  In  these  days  ?  "  reflected  Rhodes,  amazed  at  the  un- 
girlish  logic.  "You  know  what  he  meant  when  he 
said  that?" 

"We  try  that  we  know  —  all  we,  for  the  Deliverer  is 
he  named,  and  by  that  name  only  he  is  spoke  in  the 
prayers  we  make." 

Rhodes  stared  at  her,  incredulous,  yet  wondering  if  the 
dusty  vaquero  looking  rider  of  brief  words  could  be 
the  man  who  was  called  outlaw,  heathen,  and  bandit  by 
Calendria,  and  "  Deliverer"  by  these  people  of  bondage. 

"You  think  that  is  true;  —  he  will  be  the  deliverer?" 

"  I  not  so  much  think,  I  am  only  remembering  what  the 
fathers  say  and  the  mothers.  Their  word  is  that  he  will 
be  the  man,  if  —  if " 

"Well,  if  what?"  he  asked  as  she  crossed  herself,  and 
dropped  her  head. 

"  I  am  not  wanting  to  say  that  thing.  It  is  a  scare  on 
the  heart  when  it  is  said." 

"I'd  rather  be  prepared  for  the  scare  if  it  strikes  me," 
he  announced,  and  after  a  thoughtful  silence  while  she 
padded  along  beside  him,  she  lowered  her  voice  as  though 
to  hide  her  words  from  the  evil  fates. 

"Then  will  I  tell  it  you:  —  a  knife  in  the  back  is  what 
they  fear  for  him,  or  poison  in  his  cup.  He  is  hated 
by  strong  haters,  also  he  makes  them  know  fear.  I  hear 
ing  all  that  in  the  patio  at  Palomitas,  and  old  Tio  Polonio 
is  often  saying  all  saviors  are  crucified.  How  you 
think?" 

Rhodes   replied   vaguely   as   to   the   wisdom   of   Tio 


142 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

Polonio,  for  the  girl  was  giving  him  the  point  of  view 
of  the  peon,  longing  for  freedom,  yet  fatalistic  as  the 
desert  born  ever  are.  And  she  had  known  the  rebel 
leader,  Ramon  Rotil,  all  the  time ! 

He  had  no  doubt  I>H£  that  she  was  right.  Her  state 
ment  explained  the  familiar  appearance  of  the  man  he 
had  not  met  before,  though  he  had  seen  pictures  in  news 
papers  or  magazines.  Then  he  fell  to  wondering  what 
Ramon  Rotil  was  doing  in  a  territory  so  far  from  the 
troops,  and 

"Don  Jose  is  one  of  the  strong  men  who  are  hating 
him  much/'  confided  the  child.  "Also  Don  Jose  comes 
not  north  alone  ever  anymore,  always  the  soldiers  are 
his  guard.  Tio  Polonio  tells  things  of  these  soldiers." 

"What  kind  of  things?" 

"They  are  killing  boys  like  rabbits  in  Canannea, — 
pacifico  boys  who  could  grow  to  Calendrista  soldiers. 
Such  is  done  by  the  guard  of  Don  Jose  and  all  the  friends 
of  the  Deliverer  are  killed  with  a  quickness.  That  is  how 
the  men  of  Don  Jose  Perez  please  him  most,  and  in  the 
south  there  are  great  generals  who  work  also  with  him, 
and  his  hand  is  made  strong,  also  heavy,  and  that  is  what 
Tio  Polonio  is  telling  us  often." 

When  they  reached  the  mouth  of  the  little  canon  of 
the  Yaqui  well  where  the  trails  divide,  Pike  shook  hands 
and  climbed  into  the  saddle  of  Pardner. 

"It's  the  first  time  I  ever  took  the  easy  way  out,  and 
left  the  fight  alone  to  a  chum, — but  I'll  do  it,  Bub,  be 
cause  you  could  not  make  a  quick  get-away  with  me 
tagging  along.  Things  look  murkier  in  this  territory 
every  minute.  You'll  either  have  the  time  of  your  life,  or 


A  MEETING  AT  YAQUI  WELL  143 

a  headstone  early  in  the  game.  Billie  and  I  will  put  it  up 
though  we  won't  know  where  you're  planted.  I  don't 
like  it,  but  the  minutes  and  water  for  the  trail  are  both 
precious.  Come  out  quick  as  you  can.  So  long ! " 

Pardner,  refreshed  by  cooling  drink  and  an  hour's 
standing  in  wet  mud  of  the  well  drainage,  stepped  off 
briskly  toward  the  north,  while  Rhodes  lifted  Tula  to 
the  back  of  the  pack  mule,  and  Miguel  unheeding  all 
plans  or  changes,  drooped  with  closed  eyes  on  the  back 
of  the  little  burro.  The  manager  of  the  reorganized  gold- 
search  syndicate  strode  along  in  the  blinding  glare  of  the 
high  sun,  herding  them  ahead  of  him,  and  as  Pike  turned 
for  a  last  look  backward  at  a  bend  of  the  trail,  the  words 
of  the  old  darkey  chant  came  to  him  on  the  desert  air: 

Oh,  there  was  a  frog  lived  in  the  spring! 


CHAPTER  X 

A   MEXICAN   EAGLET 

THE  silver  wheel  of  the  moon  was  rolling  into  the 
west  when  the  Indian  girl  urged  the  mule  forward, 
and  caught  the  bridle  of  the  burro. 

"What  is  it,  Tula?"  asked  Rhodes,  "we  are  doing 
well  on  the  trail  to  Mesa  Blanca ;  why  stop  here  ?  " 

"Look,"  she  said.  "See  you  anything?  Know  you 
this  place  in  the  road?" 

He  looked  over  the  sand  dunes  and  scrubby  desert 
growths  stretching  far  and  misty  under  the  moon,  and, 
then  to  the  rugged  gray  range  of  the  mountain  spur  ris 
ing  to  the  south.  They  were  skirting  the  very  edge  of  it 
where  it  rose  abruptly  from  the  plain ;  a  very  great  gray 
upthrust  of  granite  wall  beside  them  was  like  a  gray 
blade  slanted  out  of  the  plain.  He  had  noticed  it  as  one 
of  the  landmarks  on  the  road  to  Mesa  Blanca,  and  on  its 
face  were  a  few  curious  scratchings  or  peckings,  one  a 
rude  sun  symbol,  and  others  of  stars  and  waves  of  wa 
ter.  He  recalled  remarking  to  Pike  that  it  must  have  been 
a  prayer  place  for  some  of  the  old  tribes. 

"Yes,  I  know  the  place,  when  we  reach  this  big  rock 
it  means  that  we  are  nearing  the  border  of  the  ranch,  this 
rock  wall  tells  me  that.  We  can  be  at  Palomitas  before 


144 


A  MEXICAN  EAGLET  145 

"  No,"  she  said,  and  got  down  from  the  mule,  "  not  to 
Palomitas  now.  Here  we  carry  the  food,  and  here 
we  hide  the  saddles,  and  the  mule  go  free.  The  burro 
we  take,  nothing  else." 

"Where  is  a  place  to  hide  saddles  here?"  and  he  made 
gesture  toward  the  great  granite  plane  glistening  in  the 
moonlight. 

"A  place  is  found,"  she  returned,  "it  is  better  we  ride 
off  the  trail  at  this  place." 

She  did  so,  circling  back  the  way  they  had  come  until 
they  were  opposite  a  more  broken  part  of  the  mountain 
side,  then  she  began  deftly  to  help  unsaddle. 

"Break  no  brush  and  make  all  tracks  like  an  Apache 
on  the  trail,"  she  said. 

Miguel  sat  silent  on  the  burro  as  if  asleep.  He  had 
never  once  roused  to  give  heed  to  the  words  or  the 
trail  through  the  long  ride.  At  times  where  the  way  was 
rough  he  would  mutter  thanks  at  the  help  of  Kit  and  sink 
again  into  stupor. 

"  I  can't  spare  that  mule,"  protested  Kit,  but  she  nodded 
her  head  as  if  that  had  been  all  thought  out. 

"  He  will  maybe  not  go  far,  there  is  grass  and  a  very 
little  spring  below.  Come  now,  I  show  you  that  hidden 
trail." 

She  picked  up  one  of  the  packs  and  led  the  burro. 

"  But  we  can't  pack  all  this  at  once,"  decided  Kit,  who 
was  beginning  to  feel  like  the  working  partner  in  a  night 
mare. 

"Two  times,"  said  Tula,  holding  up  her  fingers,  "I 
show  you." 

She  led  the  way,  nervous,  silent  and  in  haste,  as  though 


146 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

in  fear  of  unseen  enemies.  Rhodes  looked  after  her 
irritably.  He  was  fagged  and  worn  out  by  one  of  the 
hardest  trails  he  had  ever  covered,  and  was  in  no  con 
dition  to  solve  the  curious  problems  of  the  Indian  mind, 
but  the  girl  had  proven  a  good  soldier  of  the  desert,  and 
was,  for  the  first  time,  betraying  anxiety,  so  as  the  burro 
disappeared  in  the  blue  mist,  and  only  the  faint  patter 
of  his  hoofs  told  the  way  he  had  gone,  Kit  picked  up  the 
saddle  and  followed. 

The  way  was  rough  and  there  was  no  trail,  simply 
stumbling  between  great  jagged  slabs  hewn  and  tossed 
recklessly  by  some  convulsion  of  nature.  Occasionally 
dwarfed  and  stunted  brush,  odorous  with  the  faint  dew 
of  night,  reached  out  and  touched  his  face  as  he  followed 
up  and  up  with  ever  the  forbidding  lances  of  granite 
sharp  edged  against  the  sky.  From  the  plain  below  there 
was  not  even  an  indication  that  progress  would  be  pos 
sible  for  any  human  being  over  the  range  of  shattered 
rock,  and  he  was  surprised  to  turn  a  corner  and  find  Tula 
helping  Miguel  from  the  saddle  in  a  little  nook  where 
scant  herbage  grew. 

"  No,  not  in  this  place  we  camp,"  she  said.  "  It  is  good 
only  to  hide  saddles  and  rest  for  my  father.  Dawn  is  on 
the  trail,  and  the  other  packs  must  come." 

He  would  have  remonstrated  about  a  return  trip,  but 
she  held  up  her  hand. 

"It  must  be,  if  you  would  live,"  she  said.  "The  eyes 
of  you  have  not  yet  seen  what  they  are  to  see,  it  is  not  to 
be  told.  All  hiding  must  be  with  care,  or " 

She  made  swift  pantomime  of  sighting  along  a  gun 
barrel  at  him,  and  even  in  the  shadows  he  could  fancy  the 


A  MEXICAN  EAGLET 147 

deadly  half  closing  of  her  ungirlish  eyes.  Tula  did  not 
play  gaily. 

Tired  as  he  was,  Kit  grinned. 

"You  win,"  he  said.  "Let's  hit  what  would  be  the 
breeze  if  this  fried  land  could  stir  one  up." 

They  plodded  back  without  further  converse,  secured 
the  packs,  and  this  time  it  was  Rhodes  who  led,  as  there 
appeared  no  possible  way  but  the  one  they  had  covered. 
Only  once  did  he  make  a  wrong  turn  and  a  sharp  "s-st" 
from  the  girl  warned  him  of  the  mistake. 

They  found  Miguel  asleep,  and  Kit  Rhodes  would  will 
ingly  have  sunk  down  beside  him  and  achingly  striven  for 
the  same  forgetf ulness,  but  Tula  relentlessly  shook  Miguel 
awake,  got  him  on  the  burro,  unerringly  designated  the 
food  bag  in  the  dark,  and  started  again  in  the  lead. 

"  I  reckon  you're  some  sort  of  Indian  devil,"  decided 
Kit,  shouldering  the  bag.  "No  mere  mortal  ever  made 
this  trail  or  kept  it  open." 

Several  times  the  towering  walls  suggested  the  bottom 
of  a  well,  and  as  another  and  anothfer  loomed  up  ahead, 
he  gloomily  prophesied  an  ultimate  wall,  and  the  need  of 
wings. 

Then,  just  as  the  first  faint  light  began  in  the  eastern 
heavens,  he  was  aware  that  the  uneven  trail  was  going 
down  and  down,  zig-zagging  into  a  ravine  like  a  great 
gray  bowl,  and  the  bottom  of  it  filled  with  shadows  of 
night. 

The  girl  was  staggering  now  with  exhaustion  though 
she  would  not  confess  it.  Once  she  fell,  and  he  lifted  her 
thinking  she  was  hurt,  but  she  clung  to  him,  shaking  from 
weakness,  but  whispering,  "Pronto,  pronto!" 


148  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

"Sure!"  he  agreed,  "all  the  swiftness  the  outfit  can 
muster." 

Curious  odors  came  to  him  from  the  shadowy  bowl,  not 
exactly  a  pleasing  fragrance,  yet  he  knew  it —  But  his 
mind  refused  to  work.  As  the  trail  grew  wider,  and 
earth  was  under  his  feet  instead  of  rock  slivers  and 
round  boulders,  he  discovered  that  he  was  leading  the 
burro,  the  grub  sack  over  his  shoulder,  and  with  the  other 
arm  was  supporting  the  girl,  who  was  evidently  walking 
with  closed  eyes,  able  to  progress  but  not  to  guide  her 
self. 

Then  there  was  the  swish-swish  of  grasses  about  their 
feet  and  poor  Bunting  snatched  mouthfuls  as  all  three 
staggered  downward.  The  light  began  to  grow,  and 
somewhere  in  the  shadowy  bowl  there  was  the  most  blest 
sound  known  in  the  desert,  the  gurgle  of  running  water! 

"We  hear  it  —  but  we  can't  believe  it  —  old  Buntin'," 
muttered  Kit  holding  the  burro  from  steady  and  stub 
born  attempts  to  break  away,  "and  you  are  just  loco 
enough  to  think  you  smell  it." 

Then  suddenly  their  feet  struck  rock  again,  not  jagged 
or  slippery  fragments,  but  solid  paving,  and  a  whiff  of 
faint  mist  drifted  across  his  face  in  the  gray  of  the  first 
dawn,  and  the  burro  craned  his  neck  forward  at  the 
very  edge  of  a  black  rock  basin  where  warm  vapor  struck 
the  nostrils  like  a  soporific. 

The  girl  roused  herself  at  a  wordless  exclamation  from 
Rhodes,  and  began  automatically  helping  Miguel  from 
the  saddle,  and  stripping  him  to  the  breechcloth. 

Kit's  amazement  startled  him  out  of  his  lethargy  of 
exhaustion.  It  was  light  enough  now  to  see  that  her 


A  MEXICAN  EAGLET 149 

eyes  were  bloodshot,  and  her  movements  quick  with  a 
final  desperation. 

"  There ! "  she  said  and  motioned  towards  a  shelving 
place  in  the  rock,  "there  —  medicine  —  all  quick!" 

She  half  lifted  the  staggering,  unconscious  Indian,  and 
Kit,  perceiving  her  intention,  helped  her  with  Miguel  to 
the  shallow  edge  of  the  basin  where  she  rolled  him  over 
until  he  was  submerged  to  the  shoulder  in  the  shallow 
bath,  cupping  her  hands  she  scooped  water  and  drenched 
his  face. 

"Why,  — it's  warm!"  muttered  Kit. 

"  Medicine/'  said  Tula,  and  staggered  away. 

How  Rhodes  shed  his  own  garments  and  slipped  into 
the  basin  beside  Miguel  he  never  knew,  only  he  knew  he 
had  found  an  early  substitute  for  heaven.  It  was  warm 
sulphur  water,  —  tonic,  refreshing  and  infinitely  soothing 
to  every  sore  muscle  and  every  frazzled  nerve.  He  ducked 
his  head  in  it,  tossed  some  more  over  the  head  and  shoul 
ders  of  the  sleeping  Indian,  and  then,  submerged  to  his 
arms,  he  promptly  drifted  into  slumber  himself. 

He  wakened  to  the  sound  of  Baby  Bunting  pawing 
around  the  grub  pack.  Hunger  was  his  next  conviction, 
for  the  heavenly  rest  in  the  medicine  bath  had  taken  every 
vestige  of  weariness  away.  He  felt  lethargic  from  the 
sulphur  fumes,  and  more  sleep  was  an  enticing  thought, 
yet  he  put  it  from  him  and  got  into  his  clothes  after  the 
use  of  a  handkerchief  as  a  bath  towel.  Miguel  still  slept 
and  Kit  bent  over  him  in  some  concern,  for  the  sleep  ap 
peared  curiously  deep  and  still,  the  breath  coming  lightly, 
yet  he  did  not  waken  when  lifted  out  of  the  water  and 
covered  with  a  poncho  in  the  shade  of  a  great  yucca. 


150  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

"  I  reckon  it's  some  dope  in  these  hot  springs/'  decided 
Kit.  "I  feel  top  heavy  myself,  and  won't  trouble  him 
till  I've  rustled  some  grub  and  have  something  to  offer. 
Well,  Buntin',  we  are  all  here  but  the  daughter  of  the 
Glen,"  he  said,  rescuing  the  grub  sack,  "  and  if  she  was 
a  dream  and  you  inveigled  me  here  by  your  own  dia 
bolical  powers,  I've  a  hunch  this  is  our  graveyard;  we'll 
never  see  the  world  and  its  vanities  again ! " 

A  bit  of  the  blue  and  scarlet  on  a  bush  above  caught 
his  eye.  It  was  the  belt  of  Tula,  and  he  went  upwards 
vaguely  disturbed  that  he  had  drifted  into  ease  without 
question  of  her  welfare. 

He  found  her  emerging  from  a  smaller  rock  basin,  her 
one  garment  dripping  a  wet  trail  as  she  came  towards 
him.  There  was  no  smile  in  her  greeting,  but  a  look  of 
content,  of  achievement. 

"My  father,"  she  said,  "he  is " 

"  Sleeping  beyond  belief !  good  medicine  sleep,  I  hope." 

She  nodded  her  head  comprehendingly,  for  she  had 
done  the  impossible  and  had  triumphed.  She  looked  at 
the  sack  of  food  he  held. 

"  There  is  one  place  for  fire,  and  other  water  is  there. 
Come,  it  is  to  you." 

She  struck  off  across  the  sun-bathed  little  grass  plot 
to  a  jumble  of  rock  where  a  cool  spring  emerged,  ran  only 
a  few  rods,  and  sank  again  out  of  sight.  The  shattered 
rock  was  as  a  sponge,  so  completely  was  the  water  sucked 
downward  again.  Marks  of  burro's  hoofs  were  there. 

"  Baby  Buntin*  been  prospecting  while  we  wallowed  in 
the  dope  bath,"  said  Kit. 

"Maybe  so,  maybe  not,"  uttered  the  Indian  child,  if 


A  MEXICAN  EAGLET 151 

such  she  could  be  called  after  the  super-woman  initiative 
of  that  forbidding  trail.  She  was  down  on  her  knees 
peering  at  the  tracks  in  the  one  little  wet  spot  below 
the  spring. 

"  Two,"  she  said  enigmatically.  "  That  is  good,  much 
good.  It  will  be  meat." 

Then  she  saw  him  pulling  dry  grasses  and  breaking 
branches  of  scrub  growth  for  a  fire,  and  she  stood  up 
and  motioned  him  to  follow.  They  were  in  a  narrow, 
deep  ravine  separated  from  the  main  one  by  the  miniature 
plain  of  lush  grass,  a  green  cradle  of  rest  in  the  heart  of 
the  gray  hills.  She  went  as  directly  upward  as  the  broken 
rock  would  permit,  and  suddenly  he  followed  her  into  a 
blackened  cave  formed  by  a  great  granite  slab  thrusting  it 
self  upwards  and  enduring  through  the  ages  when  the 
broken  rock  had  shattered  down  to  form  an  opposite  wall. 
And  the  cloud  bursts  of  the  desert  had  swept  througji  and 
washed  the  sands  clear,  leaving  a  high  black  roof  slant 
ing  upwards  to  the  summit. 

Tula  moved  ahead  into  the  far  shadows.  He  could  see 
that  beyond  her  somewhere  a  ray  of  light  filtered  blue,  but 
he  halted  at  the  entrance,  puzzled  at  the  black  roof  where 
all  the  rock  of  the  mountain  was  gray  and  white  except 
where  mineral  streaks  were  of  reds  and  russets  and 
moldy  greens.  Then  he  put  his  hand  up  and  touched 
the  roof  and  understood.  Soot  from  ancient  fires  was 
discernible  on  his  hand,  flakes  of  it  fell  to  the  floor,  dry 
and  black,  scaling  off  under  pressure.  The  scales  were 
thick  and  very  old,  like  blackened  moss.  He  had  seen 
blackened  rock  like  that  in  other  volcanic  regions,  but 
this  was  different 


152 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

"It  is  here,"  said  Tula,  and  he  followed  the  voice 
through  a  darker  shadowed  bit  of  the  way,  then  through 
the  ray  of  light,  and  then 

The  first  thing  he  saw  was  the  raised  hearth  of  a  rather 
pretentious  fireplace,  or  place  of  fire,  for  it  resembled  not 
at  all  the  tiny  little  cooking  hearth  of  desert  Indians.  A 
stone  hatchet  lay  beside  it,  and,  what  was  much  more 
surprising,  two  iron  instruments  of  white  man's  manu 
facturing,  a  wedge  and  a  long  chisel. 

He  picked  up  the  chisel,  weighed  it  in  his  hand,  and 
looked  at  the  girl.  He  was  now  becoming  accustomed 
to  the  dim  light  and  could  see  her  eyes  following  his 
every  movement  with  curious  questioning.  There  was  a 
tiny  frowning  wrinkle  between  her  brows  as  if  serious 
matters  were  being  decided  there. 

"It  is  here,"  she  said  again.  "Maybe  someone  dies 
when  a  white  friend  is  shown  the  way  —  maybe  I  die, 
who  knows?  —  but  it  is  here  —  El  Alisal  of  the  gold  of 
the  rose!" 

She  made  a  little  gesture  and  moved  aside,  and  the 
chisel  fell  to  the  stone  floor  with  a  clang  as  Kit  shouted 
and  dropped  on  his  knees  before  an  incredible  thing  in 
the  gray  wall. 

That  upthrust  of  the  rock  wall  had  strange  variety  of 
color,  and  between  the  granite  and  the  gray  limestone 
there  was  a  ragged  rusty  band  of  iron  as  a  note  of  con 
trast  to  the  sprinkling  of  glittering  quartz  catching  the 
ray  of  light,  but  the  quartz  was  sprinkled  on  a  six  inch 
band  of  yellow  —  not  the  usual  quartz  formation  with 
dots  of  color,  but  a  deep  definite  yellow  held  together  by 
white  crystals. 


A  MEXICAN  EAGLET 153 

"  The  red  gold !  it's  the  red  gold ! "  he  said  feeling  the 
yellow  surface  instinctively. 

"  Yes,  senor,  it  is  the  red  gold  of  El  Alisal,  and  it  is  to 
you,"  but  her  eyes  were  watching  him  hungrily  as  she 
spoke.  And  something  of  that  pathetic  fear  penetrated 
his  amazed  mind,  and  he  remembered. 

"  No,  Tula,  only  my  share  to  me.  I  do  the  work,  but 
the  great  share  is  to  you,  that  it  may  buy  back  your 
mother  from  the  slavers  of  the  south." 

"Also  my  sister,"  said  the  girl,  and  for  the  first  time 
she  wept. 

"  Come,  come !  This  is  the  time  for  joy.  The  danger 
is  gone,  and  we  are  at  rest  beside  this  —  why,  it's  a  dream 
come  true,  the  golden  dream !  Come,  help  me  cook  that 
we  may  be  strong  for  the  work." 

She  helped  silently,  fetching  water  and  more  sticks  for 
the  fire. 

There  were  many  things  to  ask,  but  he  asked  no  ques 
tions,  only  gazed  between  bites  and  sups  at  the  amazing 
facts  facing  him. 

"  I've  seen  ores  and  ores  in  my  time,  but  nothing  like 
this ! "  he  exulted.  "  Why,  I  can  '  high  grade '  mule  loads 
of  this  and  take  it  out  without  smelting,"  and  then  he 
grinned  at  his  little  partner.  "  We  just  struck  it  in  time, 
—  meat  is  mighty  near  done." 

"Plenty  meat!"  she  said  nodding  her  head  wisely. 
"  Burro,  big  burro,  wild  burro !  I  see  track." 

"  Wild  burro  ?  Sure,  that  makes  it  simple  till  we  rest 
up.  You  are  one  great  little  commissary  sergeant" 

He  noted  that  the  pitch  of  the  roof  towards  the  face 
of  the  mountain  carried  the  smoke  in  a  sort  of  funnel 


154  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

to  be  sifted  through  high  unseen  crannies  of  shattered 
rock  above.  All  was  dark  in  the  end  of  the  gallery,  but  a 
perceptible  draught  from  the  portal  bore  the  smoke  up 
ward. 

"  It's  too  good  to  be  true,"  he  decided,  looking  it  over. 
"  I'm  chewing  bacon  and  it  tastes  natural,  but  I'm  betting 
with  myself  that  this  is  a  dream,  and  I'll  wake  up  in  the 
dope  pond  with  my  mouth  full  of  sulphur  water." 

The  girl  watched  him  gravely,  and  ate  sparingly, 
though  parched  corn  had  been  her  only  sustenance 
through  the  trail  of  the  dreadful  night.  Her  poor  sandals 
were  almost  cut  from  her  feet,  and  even  while  jesting 
at  the  unreality  of  it  all,  Kit  was  making  mental  note  of 
her  needs  —  the  wild  burro  would  at  least  provide  green 
hide  sandals  for  her  until  better  could  be  found,  and  she 
had  earned  the  best. 

He  was  amazed  at  her  keenness.  She  did  not  seem  to 
think,  but  instinctively  to  feel  her  way  to  required  knowl 
edge,  caring  for  herself  in  the  desert  as  a  fledgling  bird 
tossed  by  some  storm  from  the  home  nest.  He  remem 
bered  there  were  wild  burros  in  the  Sonora  hills,  but 
that  she  should  have  already  located  one  on  this  most 
barren  of  mountains  was  but  another  unbelievable  touch 
to  the  trail  of  enchantment,  and  after  a  century  of  lost 
lives  and  treasure  in  the  search  for  the  Indian  mine,  to 
think  that  this  Indian  stray,  picked  up  on  a  desolate  trail, 
should  have  been  the  one  to  know  that  secret  and  lead 
him  to  it! 

"Other  times  you  have  been  here?"  he  asked  as  he 
poured  coffee  in  a  tin  for  Miguel,  and  dug  out  the  last 
box  of  crackers  from  the  grub  pack. 


A  MEXICAN  EAGLET 155 

"Once  I  come,  one  time,  and  it  was  to  make  prayer 
here.  It  is  mine  to  know,  but  not  my  mother,  not  other 
peoples,  only  the  father  of  me  and  me.  If  I  die  then  he 
show  the  trail  to  other  one,  not  if  I  live.  That  is  how." 

"  He  surely  picked  the  right  member  of  his  honorable 
family,"  decided  Kit.  "Only  once  over  the  trail,  once?" 

"I  knowing  it  long  before  I  see  it,"  she  explained 
gravely.  "  The  father  of  me  make  that  trail  in  the  sand 
for  my  eyes  when  I  am  only  little.  I  make  the  same  for 
him  in  a  game  to  play.  When  I  make  every  turn  right, 
and  name  the  place,  and  never  forget  —  then  he  b:  'ng  me, 
for  it  is  mine  to  know." 

"  Sufferin'  cats ! "  muttered  Rhodes,  eyeing  her  in  won 
der.  "  The  next  time  I  see  an  Indian  kid  playing  in  the 
sand,  I'll  linger  on  the  trail  and  absorb  wisdom!" 

"Come,"  she  said,  "you  not  seeing  the  one  enchant 
look,  the  —  how  you  say?  —  the  not  believe  look." 

"  Well,  take  it  from  me,  Cinderella,  I'm  seeing  not  be 
lieve  things  this  very  now,"  announced  Kit,  giving  a  fond 
look  towards  that  comforting  gleam  of  yellow  metal  bed 
ding  flecks  of  quartz.  "  I  see  it,  but  will  have  to  sleep, 
and  wake  up  to  find  it  in  the  same  place  before  I  can  be 
lieve  what  I  think  I  see." 

With  the  food  and  drink  for  Miguel  in  his  hands  he 
had  followed  the  girl  through  the  shadowed  gallery  of 
the  slanting  smoke-stained  roof.  His  eyes  were  mainly 
directed  to  the  rock  floor  lest  he  stumble  and  spill  the 
precious  coffee;  thus  he  gave  slight  thought  to  the  little 
ravine  up  which  she  had  led  him  to  the  cave  which  wras 
also  a  mine. 

But  as  he  stepped  out  into  the  sunlight  she  stood  look- 


156 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

ing  up  into  his  face  with  almost  a  smile,  the  first  he  had 
seen  in  her  wistful  tragic  eyes.  Then  she  lifted  her 
hand  and  pointed  straight  out,  and  the  "enchant  look/* 
the  "not  believe"  look  was  there!  He  stared  as  at  a 
mirage  for  an  incredulous  moment,  and  then  whispered, 
"  Great  God  of  the  Desert! " 

For  a  little  space,  a  few  rods  only,  the  mountain  dipped 
steeply,  and  trickling  water  from  above  fell  in  little  cas 
cades  to  lower  levels,  where  a  great  jagged  wall  of  im 
pregnable  granite  arose  as  a  barrier  along  the  foot  of 
the  mountain. 

But  he  was  above  the  sharp  outline  of  the  huge  saw 
with  the  jagged  granite  teeth,  and  between  the  serrated 
edges  he  could  look  far  across  the  yellow-gray  reaches 
of  sand  and  desert  growths.  Far  and  wide  was  the  "  not 
believe "  look,  to  the  blue  phantom-like  peaks  on  the 
horizon,  but  between  the  two  ranges  was  a  white  line 
with  curious  dots  drifting  and  whirling  like  flies  along  it, 
and  smoke  curling  up,  and 

Then  it  was  he  uttered  the  incredulous  cry,  for  he  was 
indeed  viewing  the  thing  scarce  to  be  believed. 

He  was  looking  across  the  great  Rancho  Soledad,  and 
the  white  line  against  the  sand  was  the  wall  of  the  old 
mission  where  the  vaqueros  were  herding  a  band  of 
horses  into  the  great  quadrangle  of  the  one-time  patio 
turned  into  a  corral  since  the  buildings  on  three  sides  had 
melted  down  again  into  mother  earth. 

He  remembered  riding  around  these  lines  of  the  old 
arches  seeking  trace  of  that  door  of  the  legend,  —  the  door 
from  which  the  aliso  tree  of  the  mine  could  be  seen, — 
and  there  was  nowhere  a  trace  of  a  door. 


A  MEXICAN  EAGLET  157 

"  Queer  that  every  other  part  of  the  prospect  developed 
according  to  specifications  and  not  the  door,"  he  grumbled 
whimsically.  "  Cinderella,  why  have  you  hid  the  door 
in  the  wall  from  me  ?  " 

She  looked  around  uncertainly,  not  understanding. 

"  No  portal  but  it,"  she  said  with  a  movement  of  her 
head  towards  the  great  slab  forming  a  pointed  arch  against 
the  mountain  and  shielding  the  unbelievable  richness 
there,  "  also  El  Alisal,  the  great  tree,  is  gone.  This  was 
the  place  of  it;  the  old  ones  tell  my  father  it  was  as  chief 
of  the  trees  and  stand  high  to  be  seen.  The  sky  fire  took 
it,  and  took  the  padres  that  time  they  make  an  altar  in 
this  place." 

"  Urn,"  assented  Kit,  noting  traces  of  ancient  charcoal 
where  the  aliso  tree  had  grown  great  in  the  moisture  of 
the  spring  before  lightning  had  decided  its  tragic  finish, 
"  a  great  storm  it  must  have  been  to  send  sky  fire  enough 
to  kill  them  all." 

"Yes,"  said  Tula  quietly,  —  "also  there  was  already 
another  shrine  at  this  place,  and  the  gods  near." 

He  glanced  at  her  quickly  and  away. 

"  Sure,"  he  agreed,  "  sure,  that's  how  it  must  have  been. 
They  destroyed  the  aliso  and  there  was  no  other  land 
mark  to  steer  by.  White  men  might  find  a  thousand  other 
dimples  in  the  range  but  never  this  one,  the  saw-tooth 
range  below  us  has  the  best  of  them  buffaloed.  Come 
along,  Sefiorita  Aladdin,  and  help  me  with  the  guardian 
of  the  treasure.  We've  got  to  look  after  Miguel,  and 
then  start  in  where  the  padres  left  off.  And  you  might 
do  a  prayer  stunt  or  two  at  the  shrine  you  mentioned. 
We  need  all  the  good  medicine  help  you  can  evoke." 


158 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

As  they  approached  the  pool  where  the  faintest  mist 
drifted  above  the  water  warm  from  hidden  fires  of  the 
mountain,  Kit  halted  before  he  quite  reached  the  still  form 
beside  the  yucca,  and,  handing  the  food  and  drink  to  the 
girl,  he  went  forward  alone. 

He  was  puzzled  afterward  as  to  why  he  had  done  that, 
for  no  fold  of  the  garment  was  disturbed,  nothing  visible 
to  occasion  doubt,  yet  he  bent  over  and  lifted  the  cover 
very  gently.  The  face  of  Miguel  was  strangely  gray  and 
there  was  no  longer  sign  of  breath.  The  medicine  of 
the  sacred  pool  had  given  him  rest,  but  not  life. 

He  replaced  the  blanket  and  turned  to  the  girl ;  —  the 
last  of  the  guardians  of  the  shrine  of  the  red  gold. 

"Little  sister/'  he  said,  "Miguel  grew  tired  of  the 
trails  of  a  hard  land.  He  has  made  his  choice  to  go 
asleep  here  in  the  place  where  you  tell  me  the  gods  are 
near.  He  does  not  want  us  to  have  sad  hearts,  for  he  was 
very  sad  and  very  tired,  and  he  will  not  need  food,  Tula." 

Her  eyes  filled  with  tears,  but  she  made  no  reply,  only 
unbound  her  hair  as  she  had  seen  mourning  women  do, 
and  seated  herself  apart,  her  face  hidden  in  her  arms. 

"  No  one  is  left  to  mourn  but  me,  and  I  mourn ! "  she 
half  chanted.  "I  say  it  for  the  mother  of  me,  and  for 
my  sister,  that  the  ghosts  may  listen.  Happily  he  is  go 
ing  now  from  hard  trails !  He  has  chosen  at  this  place ! 
Happily  he  has  chosen,  and  only  we  are  sad.  No  debt 
is  ours  to  pay  at  this  place;  he  has  chosen  —  and  a  life  is 
paid  at  El  Alisal !  Happily  he  will  find  the  trail  of  the 
birds  from  this  place,  and  the  trail  of  the  clouds  over  the 
high  mountain.  No  one  is  left  to  mourn  but  me ;  and  I 
mourn ! " 


A  MEXICAN  EAGLET 159 

Rhodes  understood  no  word  of  her  lamentations, 
chanted  now  loudly,  now  lowly,  at  intervals  hour  after 
hour  that  day.  He  set  grimly  to  work  digging  a  grave 
in  the  lower  part  of  the  ravine,  gathering  dry  grass  for 
lining  as  best  he  could  to  make  clear  to  the  girl  that  no 
lack  of  care  or  honor  was  shown  the  last  man  of  Cajame's 
stock. 

The  work  took  most  of  the  day,  for  he  carried  stone 
and  built  a  wall  around  the  grave  and  covered  it  with 
slatelike  slabs  gathered  from  a  shattered  upheaval  of 
long  ago. 

Tula  watched  all  this  gravely,  and  with  approval,  for 
she  drew  with  her  finger  the  mark  of  the  sun  symbol  on 
one  of  the  slabs. 

"  It  is  well  to  make  that  mark,"  she  said,  "  for  the  sons 
of  Cajame  were  priests  of  the  sun.  The  sign  is  on  the 
great  rock  of  the  trail,  and  it  is  theirs." 

With  the  chisel  he  carved  the  symbol  as  she  suggested, 
glad  to  do  anything  for  the  one  mourner  for  the  dead  man 
who  had  offered  the  treasure  of  the  desert  to  him. 

"That  is  how  he  made  choice,"  she  said  when  it  was 
marked  plainly.  "  Me,  I  think  he  was  leading  us  on  the 
night  trail  to  this  place  —  I  think  so.  He  is  here  to  guard 
the  gold  of  El  Alisal  for  you.  That  is  how  it  will  be.  He 
has  made  choice." 

Kit  got  away  by  himself  to  think  over  the  unexpected 
situation.  The  girl  climbed  to  a  higher  point,  seated  her 
self,  and  continued  her  chant  of  mourning.  He  knew  she 
was  following,  as  best  she  knew,  the  traditional  formali 
ties  of  a  woman  for  the  death  of  a  chief.  He  found  him 
self  more  affected  by  that  brave  fatalistic  recital,  now 


160  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

loud  and  brave,  now  weirdly  slow  and  tender,  than  if  she 
had  given  way  to  tempests  of  tears.  A  man  could  com 
fort  and  console  a  weeping  stray  of  the  desert,  but  not  a 
girl  who  sat  with  unbound  hair  under  the  yucca  and  called 
messages  to  the  ghosts  until  the  sun,  —  a  flaming  ball  of 
fire,  —  sank  beyond  the  far  purple  hills. 

And  that  was  the  first  day  of  many  days  at  the  hid 
den  treasure  place  of  the  red  gold. 


CHAPTER  XI 

GLOOM   OF   BILLIE 

THE  return  of  Captain  Pike  on  Kit's  horse  was  a 
matter  of  considerable  conjecture  at  Granados,  but 
the  old  prospector  was  so  fagged  that  at  first  he  said 
little,  and  after  listening  to  the  things  Billie  had  to  tell 
him  —  he  said  less. 

"That  explains  the  curious  ways  of  the  Mexicans  as 
I  reached  the  border,"  he  decided.  "They'd  look  first 
at  the  horse,  then  at  me,  but  asked  no  questions,  and  told 
me  nothing.  Queer  that  no  word  reached  us  about  Sin 
gleton!  No,  it  isn't  either.  We  never  crossed  trails 
with  any  from  up  here.  There's  so  much  devilment  of 
various  sorts  going  on  down  there  that  a  harmless  chap 
like  Singleton  wouldn't  be  remembered." 

"  Conrad's  down  at  Magdalena  now,  but  we  seldom 
know  how  far  he  ranges.  Sometimes  he  stays  at  the 
lower  ranch  a  week  at  a  time,  and  he  might  go  on  to 
Sinaloa  for  all  we  know.  He  seems  always  busy  and  is 
extremely  polite,  but  I  gave  him  the  adobe  house  across 
the  arroya  after  Papa  Phil  —  went.  I  know  he  has  the 
Mexicans  thinking  Kit  Rhodes  came  back  for  that  mur 
der;  half  of  them  believe  it!" 

"  Well,  I  reckon  I  can  prove  him  an  alibi  if  it's  needed. 
I'll  go  see  the  old  judge." 

161 


162 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

"He'll  tell  you  not  to  travel  at  night,  or  alone,  if  you 
know  anything,"  she  prophesied.  "That's  what  he  tells 
me.  To  think  of  old  Rancho  Granados  coming  to  that 
pass !  We  never  did  have  trouble  here  except  a  little  when 
Apaches  went  on  the  warpath  before  my  time,  and  now 
the  whole  border  is  simmering  and  ready  to  boil  over  if 
anyone  struck  a  match  to  it.  The  judge  hints  that  Con 
rad  is  probably  only  one  cog  in  the  big  border  wheel,  and 
they  are  after  the  engineer  who  turns  that  wheel,  and 
do  you  know  you  haven't  told  me  one  word  of  Kit 
Rhodes,  or  whether  he's  alive  or  dead ! " 

"  Nothing  to  tell !  We  didn't  find  it,  and  he  took  the 
back  trail  with  an  Indian  girl  and  her  daddy,  and " 

"An  — Indian  girl?" 

"Yes,  a  queer  little  kid  who  was  in  a  lot  of  trouble. 
Her  father  was  wounded  in  one  of  the  fracases  they 
have  down  there  every  little  while.  Nary  one  of  us 
could  give  an  address  when  we  took  different  trails,  for 
we  didn't  know  how  far  we'd  be  allowed  to  travel  — 
the  warring  factions  are  swarming  and  troublesome  over 
the  line." 

"Well,  if  a  girl  could  stand  the  trail,  it  doesn't  look 
dangerous." 

"Looks  are  deceptive,  child,  —  and  this  isn't  just  any 
old  girl!  It's  a  rare  bird,  it's  tougher  than  whalebone 
and  possessed  of  a  wise  little  devil.  She  froze  to  Kit  as  a 
compadre  at  first  chance.  He  headed  back  to  Mesa 
Blanca.  I  reckon  they'd  make  it, — 'barring  accidents." 

"Mesa  Blanca?    That's  the  Whitely  outfit?" 

"Urn!"  assented  Pike,  "but  I  reckon  Whitely's  hit  the 
trail  by  now.  There's  no  real  profit  in  raising  stock  for 


GLOOM  OF  BILLIE  163 

the  warriors  down  there;  each  band  confiscates  what  he 
needs,  and  gives  a  promissory  note  on  an  empty  treasury." 

"Well,  the  attraction  must  be  pretty  strong  to  hold 
him  down  there  in  spite  of  conditions,"  said  Billie 
gloomily. 

"Attraction?  Sure.  Kit's  gone  loco  on  that  attrac 
tion,"  agreed  the  old  prospector,  and  then  with  a  remi 
niscent  light  in  his  tired  old  eyes  he  added,  "  I  reckon 
there's  no  other  thing  so  likely  to  snare  a  man  on  a 
desert  trail.  You  see,  Billie-child,  it's  just  as  if  the  great 
God  had  hid  a  treasure  in  the  beginning  of  the  world  to 
stay  hid  till  the  right  lad  ambled  along  the  trail,  and  lifted 
the  cover,  and  when  a  fellow  has  youth,  and  health  and 
not  a  care  in  the  world,  the  search  alone  is  a  great  game  — 
And  when  he  finds  it!  —  why,  Billie,  the  dictionary  hasn't 
words  enough  to  tell  the  story! 

"No  —  I  —  I  reckon  not,"  said  his  listener  in  a  small 
voice,  and  when  he  looked  around  to  speak  to  her  again 
she  had  disappeared,  and  across  the  patio  Dona  Luz 
was  coming  towards  him  in  no  good  humor. 

"  How  is  it  that  poor  little  one  weeps  now  when  you 
are  returned,  and  not  at  other  times?"  she  demanded. 
"Me,  I  have  my  troubles  since  that  day  they  find  the 
Don  Filipe  shot  dead,  —  Jesusita  give  him  rest!  That 
child  is  watching  the  Sonora  trail  and  waiting  since  that 
day,  but  no  tears  until  you  are  come.  I  ask  you  how  is 
the  way  of  that?" 

Captain  Pike  stared  at  her  reflectively. 

"You  are  a  bringer  of  news,  likewise  a'  faithful  war 
den,"  he  observed.  "I'm  peaceably  disposed,  and  not 
wise  to  your  lingo.  Billie  and  me  were  talking  as  man 


164 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

to  man,  free  and  confidential,  and  no  argument.  There 
were  no  weeps  that  I  noticed.  What's  the  reason  why  ? " 

"  The  saints  alone  know,  and  not  me ! "  she  returned 
miserably.  "  I  think  she  is  scared  that  it  was  the  Senor 
Rhodes  who  shooting  Don  Filipe,  the  vaqueros  think 
ing  that !  But  she  tells  no  one,  and  she  is  unhappy.  Also 
there  is  reason.  That  poor  little  one  has  the  ranches, 
but  have  you  hear  how  the  debts  are  so  high  all  the 
herds  can  never  pay?  That  is  how  they  are  saying 
now  about  Granados  and  La  Partida,  and  at  the  last  our 
sefiorita  will  have  no  herds,  and  no  ranches,  and  no 
people  but  me.  Madre  de  Dios!  I  try  to  think  of  her 
in  a  little  adobe  by  the  river  with  only  frijoles  in  the 
dinner  pot,  and  I  no  see  it  that  way.  And  I  not  see 
ing  it  other  way.  How  you  think  ?  " 

"I  don't,  it's  too  new,"  confessed  Pike.  "Who  says 
this?" 

"  The  Senor  Henderson.  I  hear  him  talk  with  Senor 
Conrad,  who  has  much  sorrow  because  the  Don  Filipe 
made  bad  contracts  and  losing  the  money  little  and 
little,  and  then  the  counting  comes,  and  it  is  big,  very 
big!" 

"Ah!  the  Senor  Conrad  has  much  sorrow,  has  he?" 
queried  Pike,  "  and  Billie  is  getting  her  face  to  the  wall 
and  crying?  That's  queer.  Billie  always  unloaded  her 
troubles  on  me,  and  you  say  there  was  none  of  this 
weeping  till  I  came  back?" 

"  That  is  so,  sefior." 

"Cause  why?" 

"  Quien  sabef  She  was  making  a  long  letter  to  Sefior 
Rhodes  in  Sonora,  —  that  I  know.  He  sends  no  word,  so 


GLOOM  OF  BILLIE  165 

—  I  leave  it  to  you,  senor,  it  takes  faith  and  more  faith 
when  a  man  is  silent,  and  the  word  of  a  killing  is  against 
him." 

"  Great  Godfrey,  woman !  He  never  got  a  letter,  he 
knows  nothing  of  a  killing.  How  in  hell  —  "  Then  the 
captain  checked  himself  as  he  saw  the  uselessness  of 
protesting  to  Dona  Luz.  "  Where's  Billie  ?  " 

Billie  was  perched  on  a  window  seat  in  the  sala,  her 
eyes  were  more  than  a  trifle  red,  and  she  appeared  deeply 
engrossed  in  the  pages  of  a  week-old  country  paper. 

"  I  see  here  that  Don  Jose  Perez  of  Hermosillo  is  to 
marry  Dona  Dolores  Terain,  the  daughter  of  the  gen 
eral,  "  she  observed  impersonally.  "  He  owns  Rancho 
Soledad,  and  promises  the  Sonora  people  he  will  drive 
the  rebel  Rotil  into  the  sea,  and  it  was  but  yesterday  Tia 
Luz  was  telling  me  of  his  beautiful  wife,  Jocasta,  who 
was  only  a  little  mountain  girl  when  he  rode  through 
her  village  and  saw  her  first.  She  is  still  alive,  and  it 
looks  to  me  as  if  all  men  are  alike! " 

"More  or  less,"  agreed  Pike  amicably,  "some  of  us 
more,  some  of  us  less.  Dona  Dolores  probably  spells 
politics,  but  Dona  Jocasta  is  a  wildcat  of  the  sierras,  and 
I  can't  figure  out  any  harmonious  days  for  a  man  who 
picks  two  like  that." 

"  He  doesn't  deserve  harmony ;  no  man  does  who 
isn't  true  —  isn't  true,"  finished  Billie  rather  lamely. 

"  Look  here,  honey  child,"  observed  Pike,  "  you'll  turn 
man  hater  if  you  keep  on  working  your  imagination. 
Luz  tells  me  you  are  cranky  against  Kit,  and  that  the 
ranches  are  tied  up  in  business  knots  tighter  than  I  had 
any  notion  of,  so  you  had  better  unload  the  worst  you 


166 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

can  think  of  on  me ;  that's  what  I'm  here  for.  What  dif 
ference  do  the  Perez  favorites  make  to  our  young  lives? 
Neither  Dolores  nor  Jocasta  will  help  play  the  cards  in 
our  fortunes." 

Wherein  Captain  Pike  was  not  of  the  prophets.  The 
wells  of  Sonora  are  not  so  many  but  that  he  who  pitches 
his  tent  near  one  has  a  view  and  greetings  of  all  drift 
ing  things  of  the  desert,  and  the  shadowed  star  of  Dona 
Jocasta  of  the  south  was  leading  her  into  the  Soledad 
wilderness  forsaken  of  all  white  men  but  one. 


CHAPTER  XII 

COVERING  THE  TRAIL 

EACH  minute  of  the  long  days,  Rhodes  worked  stead 
ily  and  gaily,  picking  out  the  high  grade  ore  from 
the  old  Indian  mine,  and  every  possible  night  he  and  the 
burro  and  Tula  made  a  trip  out  to  the  foot  of  the  range, 
where  they  buried  their  treasure  against  the  happy  day 
when  they  could  go  out  of  the  silent  desert  content  for 
the  time  with  what  gold  they  could  carry  in  secret  to  the 
border. 

For  two  days  he  had  watched  the  Soledad  ranch 
house  rather  closely  through  the  field  glass,  for  there 
was  more  activity  there  than  before ;  men  in  groups  rode 
in  who  were  not  herding.  He  wondered  if  it  meant  a 
military  occupation,  in  which  case  he  would  need  to  be 
doubly  cautious  when  emerging  from  the  hidden  trail. 

The  girl  worked  as  he  worked.  Twice  he  had  made 
new  sandals  for  her,  and  also  for  himself  in  order  to 
save  his  boots  so  that  they  might  at  least  be  wearable 
when  he  got  among  people.  All  plans  had  been  thought 
out  and  discussed  until  no  words  would  be  needed  between 
them  when  they  separated.  She  was  to  appear  alone  at 
Palomitas  with  a  tale  of  escape  from  the  slavers,  and  he 
was  carefully  crushing  and  mashing  enough  color  to 
partly  fill  a  buckskin  bag  to  show  as  the  usual  fruits  of  a 

167 


168 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

prospect  trip  from  which  he  was  returning  to  Mesa 
Blanca  after  exhausting  grub  stake  and  shoe  leather. 

The  things  of  the  world  had  stood  still  for  him  during 
that  hidden  time  of  feverish  work.  He  scarcely  dared 
try  to  estimate  the  value  of  the  ore  he  had  dug  as  honey 
from  a  hollow  tree,  but  it  was  rich  —  rich!  There  were 
nuggets  of  pure  gold,  assorted  as  to  their  various  sizes, 
while  he  milled  and  ground  the  quartz  roughly,  and 
cradled  it  in  the  water  of  the  brook. 

By  the  innocent  aid  of  Baby  Bunting,  two  wild  burros 
of  the  sierra  had  been  enticed  within  reach  for  slaugh 
ter,  and,  aside  from  the  food  values,  they  furnished  green 
hide  which  under  Kit's  direction,  Tula  deftly  made  into 
bags  for  carrying  the  gold. 

All  activities  during  the  day  were  carefully  confined 
within  a  certain  radius,  low  enough  in  the  little  canon 
to  run  no  risk  in  case  any  inquisitive  resident  of  Soledad 
should  study  the  ranges  with  a  field  glass,  though  Kit  had 
not  seen  one  aside  from  his  own  since  he  entered  Sonora. 
And  he  used  his  own  very  carefully  every  morning  and 
evening  on  the  wide  valley  of  Soledad. 

"Something  doing  down  there,  sister,"  he  decided, 
as  they  were  preparing  for  the  last  trail  out.  "  Riders 
who  look  like  cavalry,  mules,  and  some  wagons  —  mighty 
queer!" 

Tula  came  over  and  stood  beside  him  expectantly.  He 
had  learned  that  a  look  through  the  magic  glasses  was 
the  most  coveted  gift  the  camp  could  grant  to  her,  and 
it  had  become  part  of  the  regular  routine  that  she  stood 
waiting  her  turn  for  the  wide  look,  the  "  enchant  look," 
as  she  had  called  it  that  first  morning.  It  had  become 


COVERING  THE  TRAIL  169 

a  game  to  try  to  see  more  than  he,  and  this  time  she  men 
tioned  as  he  had,  the  wagons,  and  mules,  and  riders.  And 
then  she  looked  long  and  uttered  a  brief  Indian  word 
of  surprise. 

"Beat  me  again,  have  you?'*  queried  Kit  good 
humoredly.  "What  do  you  find?" 

"  A  woman  is  there,  in  that  wagon,  —  sick  maybe.  Also 
one  man  is  a  padre ;  see  you ! " 

Kit  took  the  glasses  and  saw  she  was  right.  A  man 
who  looked  like  a  priest  was  helping  a  woman  from  a 
wagon,  she  stumbled  forward  and  then  was  half  carried 
by  two  men  towards  the  house. 

"Not  an  Indian  woman?"  asked  Kit,  and  again  her 
unchildlike  mind  worked  quickly. 

"A  padre  does  not  bow  his  head  to  help  Indian  woman. 
Caballeros  do  not  lift  them  up." 

"  Well  I  reckon  Don  Jose  Perez  is  home  on  a  visit,  and 
brought  his  family.  A  queer  time !  Other  ranch  folks  are 
getting  their  women  north  over  the  border  for  safety." 

"Don  Jose  not  bring  woman  to  Soledad  —  ever.  He 
take  them  away.  His  men  take  them  away." 

It  was  the  first  reference  she  had  made  to  the  slavers 
since  they  had  entered  the  canon,  though  she  knew  that 
each  pile  of  nuggets  was  part  of  the  redemption  money 
for  those  exiles  of  whom  she  did  not  speak. 

But  she  worked  tirelessly  until  Kit  would  stop  her,  or 
suggest  some  restful  task  to  vary  the  steady  grind  of 
carrying,  pounding,  or  washing  the  quartz.  He  had 
ordered  her  to  make  two  belts,  that  each  of  them  might 
carry  some  of  the  gold  hidden  under  their  garments. 
She  had  a  nugget  tied  in  a  corner  of  her  mania,  and  other 


170 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

small  ones  fastened  in  her  girdle,  while  in  the  belt  next 
her  body  she  carried  all  he  deemed  safe  to  weight  her 
with,  probably  five  pounds.  At  any  hint  of  danger  she 
would  hide  the  belt  and  walk  free. 

His  own  belt  would  carry  ten  pounds  without  undue 
bulkiness.  And  over  three  hundred  pounds  of  high  grade 
gold  was  already  safely  hidden  near  the  great  rock  with 
the  symbols  of  sun  and  rain  marking  its  weathered 
surface. 

"A  fair  hundred  thousand,  and  the  vein  only 
scratched!"  he  exulted.  "I  was  sore  over  losing  the 
job  on  Billie's  ranch, — but  gee!  this  looks  as  if  I  was 
knocked  out  in  the  cold  world  to  reach  my  good  luck!" 

In  a  blue  dusk  of  evening  they  left  the  camp  behind 
and  started  over  the  trail,  after  Tula  had  carefully  left 
fragments  of  food  on  the  tomb  of  Miguel,  placed  there  for 
the  ghosts  who  are  drawn  to  a  comrade. 

Kit  asked  no  questions  concerning  any  of  her  tribal 
customs,  since  to  do  so  would  emphasize  the  fact  that 
they  were  peculiar  and  strange  to  him,  and  the  Indian 
mind,  wistfully  alert,  would  sense  that  strangeness  and 
lose  its  unconsciousness  in  the  presence  of  an  alien.  So, 
when  she  went,  after  meals,  to  offer  dregs  of  the  soup 
kettle  or  bones  of  the  burro,  she  often  found  a  bunch 
of  desert  blossoms  wilting  there  in  the  heat,  and  these 
tributes  left  by  Kit  went  far  to  strengthen  her  confi 
dence.  It  was  as  if  Miguel  was  a  live  partner  in  their 
activities,  never  forgotten  by  either.  So  they  left  him  on 
guard,  and  turned  their  faces  toward  the  outer  world 
of  people. 

Knowing  more  than  he  dare  tell  the  girl  his  mind  was 


COVERING  THE  TRAIL  171 

considerably  occupied  with  that  woman  at  Soledad,  for 
military  control  changed  over  night  in  many  a  province 
of  Mexico  in  revolutionary  days,  and  the  time  at  the 
hidden  mine  might  have  served  for  many  changes. 

Starlight  and  good  luck  was  on  the  trail  for  them,  and 
at  earliest  streak  of  dawn  they  buried  their  treasure,  di 
vided  their  dried  burro  meat,  and  with  every  precaution 
to  hide  the  trail  where  they  emerged  from  the  gray  sierra, 
they  struck  the  road  to  Mesa  Blanca. 

Until  full  day  came  Tula  rode  the  burro,  and  slipped 
off  at  a  ravine  where  she  could  walk  hidden,  on  the  way 
to  Palomitas. 

"Buntin',"  said  Kit,  watching  her  go,  "we'll  have 
pardners  and  pardners  in  our  time,  but  we'll  never  find 
one  more  of  a  thoroughbred  than  that  raggedy  Indian 
witch-child  of  ours." 

He  took  the  slanting  cattle  trail  up  over  the  mesa, 
avoiding  the  wagon  road  below,  and  at  the  far  edge  of 
it  halted  to  look  down  over  the  wide  spreading  leagues  of 
the  Mesa  Blanca  ranch. 

It  looked  very  sleepy,  drowsing  in  the  silence  of  the 
noon  sun.  An  old  Indian  limped  slowly  from  the  corral 
over  to  the  ranch  house,  and  a  child  tumbled  in  the  dust 
with  a  puppy,  but  there  was  no  other  sign  of  ranch 
activity.  As  he  descended  the  mesa  and  drew  nearer 
the  corrals  they  had  a  deserted  look,  not  merely  empty 
but  deserted. 

The  puppy  barked  him  a  welcome,  but  the  child  gave 
one  frightened  look  at  Kit,  and  with  a  howl  of  fear,  raced 
to  the  sheher  of  the  portal  where  he  disappeared  in  the 
shadows. 


172 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

"  I  had  a  hunch,  Babe,  that  we  needed  smoothing-  down 
with  a  currycomb  before  we  made  social  calls,"  confessed 
Kit  to  the  burro,  "but  I  didn't  reckon  on  scaring  the 
natives  in  any  such  fashion  as  this." 

He  was  conscious  of  peering  eyes  at  a  barred  window, 
and  then  the  old  Indian  appeared. 

"Hello,  Isidro!" 

"At  your  service,  seiior,"  mumbled  the  old  man,  and 
then  he  stared  at  the  burro,  and  at  the  bearded  and  rather 
desert- worn  stranger,  and  uttered  a  cry  of  glad  recog 
nition. 

"Ai-ji!  It  is  El  Pajarito  coming  again  to  Mesa 
Blanca,  but  coming  with  dust  in  your  mouth  and  no  song ! 
Enter,  senor,  and  take  your  rest  in  your  own  house.  None 
are  left  to  do  you  honor  but  me, — all  gone  like  that!" 
and  his  skinny  black  hands  made  a  gesture  as  if  wafting 
the  personnel  of  Mesa  Blanca  on  its  way.  "  The  General 
Rotil  has  need  the  cattle,  and  makes  a  divide  with 
Senor  Whitely  and  all  go,  —  all  the  herds,"  and  he  pointed 
east. 

Kit  bathed  his  face  in  the  cool  water  brought  out  by 
Valencia,  Isidro's  wife,  then  unloaded  the  burro  of  the 
outfit,  and  stretched  himself  in  the  shade  while  the  women 
busied  themselves  preparing  food. 

"So  General  Rotil  makes  a  divide  of  the  cattle,  —  of 
Whitely's  cattle?  How  is  that?"  he  asked. 

And  the  old  Indian  proceeded  to  tell  him  that  it  was 
true.  The  Deliverer  must  feed  his  army.  He  needed 
half,  and  promised  Whitely  to  furnish  a  guard  for  the 
rest  of  the  herd  and  help  Whitely  save  them  by  driving 
them  to  Imuris,  where  the  railroad  is. 


COVERING  THE  TRAIL 173 

"  He  said  enemy  troops  would  come  from  the  south  and 
take  them  all  in  one  week  or  one  month.  He,  Rotil, 
would  pay  a  price.  Thus  it  was,  and  Senor  Whitely,  and 
enough  vaqueros,  rode  with  the  herds,  and  General  Rotil 
took  the  rest  of  the  ranchmen  to  be  his  soldiers.  Of 
course  it  might  be  Senor  Whitely  would  some  day  return, 
who  knows?  And  he  left  a  letter  for  the  sefior  of  the 
songs." 

The  letter  corroborated  Isidro's  statements  —  it  was 
the  only  way  to  save  any  of  the  stock.  Whitely  thought 
there  was  a  hundred  or  two  still  ranging  in  the  far  cor 
ners,  but  time  was  short,  and  he  was  saving  what  he 
could.  The  men  were  joining  the  revolutionists  and  he 
would  be  left  without  help  anyway.  If  Rhodes  came 
back  he  was  to  use  the  place  as  his  own.  If  he  could 
round  up  any  more  horses  or  cattle  on  the  range  and 
get  them  to  safety  Isidro  would  find  some  Indians  to 
help  him,  and  Whitely  would  divide  the  profits  with  him. 

"  Fine !  —  divides  first  with  the  Deliverer,  and  next 
with  me !  Can't  see  where  that  hombre  gets  off  when  it 
comes  to  staking  his  own  family  to  a  living.  But  it's  a 
bargain,  and  this  is  my  headquarters  until  I  can  get  out. 
How  long  has  Whitely  and  his  new  friends  been  gone?" 

"Four  days,  sefior/' 

"  Seen  any  stragglers  of  cattle  left  behmd?" 

Isidro's  grandson,  Clodomiro,  had  found  both  horses 
and  cattle  and  herded  them  into  far  canons ;  a  man  might 
ride  in  a  circle  for  five  miles  around  the  ranch  house 
and  see  never  a  fresh  track.  Clodomiro  was  a  good  boy, 
and  of  much  craft. 

Dinner  was  announced  for  the  sefior,  and  the  women 


174  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

showed  him  welcome  by  placing  before  him  the  most 
beautiful  repast  they  could  arrange  quickly,  chile  con 
came,  frijoles,  tortillas,  and  a  decanter  of  Sonora  wine  — 
a  feast  for  a  king! 

After  he  had  eaten,  tobacco  was  brought  him  from 
some  little  hidden  store,  and  Isidro  gave  him  the  details  of 
the  slave  raid  of  Palomitas,  and  Sonora  affairs  in  general. 
Kit  was  careful  to  state  that  he  has  been  prospecting  in 
the  mountains  and  out  of  touch  with  ranch  people,  and 
it  must  be  understood  that  all  Isidro  could  tell  would  be 
news  to  a  miner  from  the  desert  mountains.  And  he 
asked  if  General  Rotil  also  collected  stock  from  the  ranch 
of  Soledad. 

Whereupon  Isidro  told  him  many  things,  and  among 
them  the  wonder  that  Soledad  had  been  left  alone  —  the 
saints  only  knew  why !  And  Juan  Gonsalvo,  the  foreman 
at  Soledad,  had  helped  with  the  slave  raid,  and  was  known 
in  Palomitas  where  they  took  girls  and  women  and  men 
as  well,  even  men  not  young!  Miguel,  the  major-domo, 
was  taken  with  his  wife  and  two  daughters,  the  other 
men  were  young.  The  curse  of  God  seemed  striking 
Sonora.  A  new  foreman  was  now  at  Soledad,  Marto 
Cavayso,  a  hard  man  and,  —  it  was  said,  a  soldier,  but 
he  evidently  got  tired  of  fighting  and  was  taking  his 
rest  by  managing  the  horse  herds  of  Soledad. 

"  Doesn't  look  like  rest  to  me,"  observed  Kit.  "  The 
Soledad  trail  looks  pretty  well  kicked  into  holes,  with 
wagons,  mules,  and  horsemen." 

Isidro  volunteered  his  opinion  that  work  of  the  devil 
was  going  forward  over  there. 

"Juan  Gonsalvo  and  El  Aleman  were  stealing  women 


COVERING  THE  TRAIL 175 

in  Sonora,  and  driving  them  the  south  trail  for  a  price," 
he  stated.  "  But  what  think  you  would  be  the  price  for 
a  woman  of  emerald  eyes  and  white  skin  carried  up  from 
the  south  under  chains,  and  a  lock  to  the  chain?" 

"  I  reckon  you  are  dreaming  the  lock  and  chain  part  of 
it,  Isidro,"  returned  Kit.  "Only  murderers  travel  like 
that/' 

"  Si,  it  is  so.  There  at  Soledad  it  is  heard.  A  killing 
was  done  in  the  south  and  Soledad  is  her  prison.  But 
she  is  beautiful,  and  the  men  are  casting  lots  as  to  whose 
she  shall  be  when  the  guard  is  gone  south  again  to  Don 
Jose  Perez." 

"Ah!  they  are  Don  Jose's  men,  are  they?  Then  the 
prisoner  is  guarded  by  his  orders?" 

"  Who  knows  ?  They  tell  that  she  is  a  lost  soul,  and 
fought  for  a  knife  to  kill  herself,  and  the  padre  makes 
prayers  and  says  hell  will  be  hers  if  she  does.  Elena, 
who  is  cook,  heard  him  say  that  word,  and  Elena  was 
once  wife  to  my  brother,  and  she  is  telling  that  to  Clodo- 
miro  who  makes  an  errand  to  take  her  deer  meat,  and  hear 
of  the  strangers.  He  saw  the  woman,  her  bracelets  are 
gold,  and  her  eyes  are  green.  The  padre  calls  her  Doiia 
Jocasta.  I  go  now  and  give  drink  to  that  burro  and 
make  him  happy." 

"Jocasta,  eh?  Dona  Jocasta!"  repeated  Kit  in  won 
dering  meditation.  "  Doesn't  seem  possible — but  reckon 
it  is,  and  there  are  no  real  surprises  in  Sonora.  Anything 
could,  and  does  happen  here." 

He  remembered  Pike  telling  the  story  of  Jocasta  one 
morning  by  their  camp  fire  in  the  desert.  She  was  called 
by  courtesy  Senora  Perez.  He  had  not  heard  her  father's 


176 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

name,  but  he  was  a  Spanish  priest  and  her  mother  an 
Indian  half-breed  girl  —  some  little  village  in  the  sierras. 
There  were  two  daughters,  and  the  younger  was  blond  as 
a  child  of  Old  Spain,  Jocasta  was  the  elder  and  raven 
dark  of  hair,  a  skin  of  deep  cream,  and  jewel -green  eyes. 
Kit  had  heard  three  men,  including  Isidro,  speak  of  Dona 
Jocasta,  and  each  had  mentioned  the  wonderful  green 
eyes  —  no  one  ever  seemed  to  forget  them! 

Their  magnetism  had  caught  the  attention  of  Don  Jose, 
—  a  distinguished  and  illustrious  person  in  the  eyes  of  the 
barefoot  mountaineers.  No  one  knew  what  Jocasta 
thought  of  the  exalted  padrone  of  the  wide  lands,  whose 
very  spurs  were  of  gold,  but  she  knew  there  was  scarce 
wealth  enough  in  all  the  village  to  keep  a  candle  burning 
on  the  Virgin's  shrine,  and  her  feet  had  never  known  a 
shoe.  The  padre  died  suddenly  just  as  Don  Jose  was 
making  a  bargain  with  him  for  the  girl,  so  he  swept 
Jocasta  to  his  saddle  with  no  bargain  whatever  except 
that  she  might  send  back  for  Lucita,  her  little  sister,  and 
other  men  envied  Perez  his  good  luck  when  they  looked 
at  Jocasta.  For  three  years  she  had  been  mistress  of  his 
house  in  Hermosillo,  but  never  had  he  taken  her  into 
the  wilderness  of  Soledad,  —  it  was  a  crude  casket  for  so 
rich  a  treasure. 

'Kit  steeped  in  the  luxury  of  a  square  meal,  fell  asleep, 
thinking  of  the  green-eyed  Dona  Jocasta  whom  no  man 
forgot.  He  would  not  connect  a  brilliant  bird  of  the 
mountain  with  that  drooping  figure  he  and  Tula  had  seen 
stumbling  towards  the  portal  of  Soledad.  And  the  state 
ment  of  Isidro  that  there  had  been  a  killing,  and  Dona 
Jocasta  was  a  lost  soul,  was  most  puzzling  of  all.  In  a 


COVERING  THE  TRAIL  177 

queer  confused  dream  the  killing  was  done  by  Tula,  and 
Billie  wore  the  belt  of  gold,  and  had  green  eyes.  And 
he  wakened  himself  with  the  apparently  hopeless  effort 
of  convincing  Billie  he  had  never  forgotten  her  despite 
the  feminine  witcheries  of  Sonora. 

The  shadows  were  growing  long,  and  some  Indian  boys 
were  jogging  across  the  far  flats.  He  reached  for  his 
field  glass  and  saw  that  one  of  them  had  a  deer  across 
his  saddle.  Isidro  explained  that  the  boys  were  planting 
corn  in  a  far  field,  and  often  brought  a  deer  when  they 
came  in  for  more  seed  or  provisions.  They  had  a  hut 
and  ramada  at  the  edge  of  the  planted  land  six  miles 
away.  They  were  good  boys,  Benito  and  Mariano  Bravo, 
and  seldom  both  left  the  fields  at  the  same  time.  He 
called  to  Valencia  that  there  would  be  deer  for  supper, 
then  watched  the  two  riders  as  they  approached,  and 
smiled  as  they  perceptibly  slowed  up  their  broncos  at 
sight  of  the  bearded  stranger  on  the  rawhide  cot  against 
the  wall. 

"See  you!"  he  pointed  out  to  Kit.  "These  are  the 
days  of  changes.  Each  day  we  looking  for  another 
enemy,  maybe  that  army  of  the  south,  and  the  boys  they 
think  that  way  too." 

The  boys,  on  being  hailed,  came  to  the  house  with  their 
offering,  and  bunkered  down  in  the  shadow  with  a  cer 
tain  shy  stolidity,  until  Kit  spoke,  when  they  at  once 
beamed  recognition,  and  made  jokes  of  his  beard  as  a 
blanket. 

But  they  had  news  to  tell,  great  news,  for  a  child  of 
Miguel  had  broken  away  from  the  slavers  and  had  hidden 
in  the  mountains,  and  at  last  had  found  her  way  back  to 


178  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

Palomitas.  She  was  very  tired  and  very  poor  in  raiment, 
and  the  people  were  weeping  over  her.  Miguel,  her 
father,  was  dead  from  a  wound,  and  was  under  the 
ground,  and  of  the  others  who  went  on  she  could  tell 
nothing,  only  that  Conrad,  the  German  friend  of  Don 
Jose,  was  the  man  who  covered  his  face  and  helped  take 
the  women.  Her  sister  Anita  had  recognized  him,  calling 
out  his  name,  and  he  had  struck  her  with  a  quirt. 

The  women  left  their  work  to  listen  to  this,  and  to 
add  the  memories  of  some  of  their  friends  who  had 
hidden  and  luckily  escaped. 

"  That  white  man  should  be  crucified  and  left  for  the 
vultures,"  said  the  boy  Benito. 

"  No,"  said  the  soft  voice  of  Valencia,  "  God  was  sac 
rificed,  but  this  man  is  a  white  Judas;  the  death  of  God  is 
too  good  for  that  man.  It  has  been  talked  about.  He 
will  be  found  some  place,  —  and  the  Judas  death  will  be 
his.  The  women  are  making  prayers." 

"  It  will  soon  be  Easter,"  said  Isidro. 

Kit  did  not  know  what  was  meant  by  a  "  Judas  "  death, 
though  he  did  know  many  of  the  church  legends  had  been 
turned  by  the  Indians  into  strange  and  lurid  caricatures. 
He  thought  it  would  be  interesting  to  see  how  they  could 
enlarge  on  the  drama  of  Judas,  but  he  made  no  comment, 
as  a  direct  question  would  turn  the  Indians  thoughtful, 
and  silence  them. 

They  all  appeared  alert  for  the  return  of  Rotil.  No 
one  believed  he  had  retired  utterly  from  the  region  with 
out  demanding  tribute  from  Soledad.  It  was  generally 
suspected  that  Perez  received  and  held  munitions  for  use 
against  the  revolutionists  though  no  one  knew  where  they 


COVERING  THE  TRAIL 179 

were  hidden.  There  were  Indian  tales  of  underground 
tunnels  of  Soledad  Mission  for  retreat  in  the  old  days  in 
case  of  hostile  attacks,  and  the  Soledad  ranch  house  was 
built  over  part  of  that  foundation.  No  one  at  Soledad 
knew  the  entrance  except  Perez  himself,  though  it  was 
surmised  that  Juan  Gonsalvo  had  known,  and  had  been 
the  one  to  store  the  mule  loads  and  wagon  loads  of 
freight  shipped  over  the  border  before  Miguel  Herrara 
was  caught  at  the  work  from  the  American  side.  Perez 
was  a  careful  man,  and  not  more  than  one  man  was 
trusted  at  one  time.  That  man  seemed  marked  by  the 
angels  for  accident,  for  something  had  always  ended  him, 
and  it  was  no  good  fortune  to  be  a  favorite  of  Don  Jose 
—  Dona  Jocasta  was  learning  that ! 

Thus  the  gossip  and  surmise  went  on  around  Rhodes 
for  his  brief  hour  of  rest  and  readjustment.  He  en 
couraged  the  expression  of  opinion  from  every  source, 
for  he  had  the  job  ahead  of  him  to  get  three  hundred 
pounds  of  gold  across  the  border  and  through  a  region 
where  every  burro  was  liable  to  examination  by  some  of 
the  warring  factions.  It  behooved  him  to  consider  every 
tendency  of  the  genus  homo  with  which  he  came  in  con 
tact.  Also  the  bonds  between  them, — -especially  the 
bonds,  since  the  various  groups  were  much  of  a  sameness, 
and  only  "  good  "  or  "  bad  "  according  to  their  affiliations. 
Simple  Benito  and  his  brother,  and  soft-voiced  motherly 
Valencia  who  could  conceive  a  worse  death  for  the  Ger 
man  Judas  than  crucifixion,  were  typical  of  the  primitive 
people  of  desert  and  sierra. 

"  How  many  head  of  stock  think  you  still  ranges  Mesa 
Blanca?"  he  asked  Isidro,  who  confessed  that  he  no 


180 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

longer  rode  abroad  or  kept  tally,  but  Clodomiro  would 
know,  and  would  be  in  to  supper.  Benito  and  -Mariano 
told  of  one  stallion  and  a  dozen  mares  beyond  the  hills, 
and  a  spring  near  thsir  fields  had  been  muddied  the  day 
before  by  a  bunch  of  cows  and  calves,  they  thought  per 
haps  twenty,  and  they  had  seen  three  mules  with  the 
Mesa  Blanca  brand  when  they  were  getting  wood. 

"Three  mules,  eh?  Well,  I  may  need  those  mules 
and  the  favor  will  be  to  me  if  you  keep  them  in  sight,"  he 
said  addressing  the  boys.  "  I  am  to  round  up  what  I  can 
and  remove  them  after  Seiior  Whitely,  together  with 
other  belongings/' 

"  Others,  senor  ?  "  asked  Isidro. 

Rhodes  took  the  letter  from  his  pocket,  and  perused 
it  as  if  to  refresh  his  memory. 

"The  old  Spanish  chest  is  to  go  if  possible,  and  other 
things  of  Mrs.  Whitely's,"  he  said.  "  I  will  speak  of  these 
to  your  wife  if  the  plan  can  carry,  but  there  is  chance 
of  troops  from  the  south  and — who  knows  ?  —  we  may  be 
caught  between  the  two  armies  and  ground  as  meal  on  a 
metate" 

He  thus  avoided  all  detail  as  to  the  loads  the  pack 
animals  were  to  carry,  arid  the  written  word  was  a  safe 
mystery  to  the  Indian.  He  was  making  no  definite  plans, 
but  was  learning  all  possibilities  with  a  mind  prepared 
to  take  advantage  of  the  most  promising. 

Thus  the  late  afternoon  wore  on  in  apparent  restful 
idleness  after  the  hard  trail.  The  boys  secured  their  little 
allowance  of  beans  and  salt,  and  corn  for  planting,  but 
lingered  after  the  good  supper  of  Valencia,  a  holiday 
feast  compared  with  their  own  sketchy  culinary  per- 


COVERING  THE  TRAIL 181 

formance  in  the  jacal  of  the  far  fields.  They  scanned  the 
trail  towards  Palomitas,  and  then  the  way  down  the  far 
western  valley,  evidently  loath  to  leave  until  their  friend 
Clodomiro  should  arrive,  and  Isidro  expected  him  before 
sunset. 

But  he  came  later  from  towards  Soledad,  a  tall  lad  with 
fluttering  ribbands  of  pink  and  green  from  his  banda  and 
his  elbows,  and  a  girdle  of  yellow  fluttering  fringed  ends 
to  the  breeze,  —  all  the  frank  insignia  of  a  youth  in  the 
market  for  marriage.  He  suggested  a  gay  graceful  bird 
as  he  rode  rapidly  in  the  long  lope  of  the  range.  His 
boy  friends  of  the  planted  fields  went  out  to  meet  him 
at  the  corral,  and  look  after  his  horse  while  he  went  in 
to  supper.  He  halted  to  greet  them,  and  then  walked 
soberly  across  the  plaza  where  pepper  trees  and  great 
white  alisos  trailed  dusk  shadows  in  the  early  starlight. 

"  What  reata  held  you  ?  "  asked  Isidro.  "  Has  Soledad 
grown  a  place  for  comradeship  ?  " 

"  No,  senor,"  said  the  lad  passing  into  the  dining  room 
where  two  candles  gave  him  light  in  the  old  adobe  room, 
"it  is  comradeship  we  do  not  need,  but  it  is  coming  to 
us." 

He  seated  himself  on  the  wooden  bench  and  his  grand 
mother  helped  him  from  a  smoking  plate  of  venison.  He 
looked  tired  and  troubled,  and  he  had  not  even  taken  note 
that  a  stranger  was  beside  Isidro  in  the  shadows. 

"What  nettle  stings  you,  boy?"  asked  his  grandfather 
sarcastically,  and  at  that  he  looked  up  and  rose  to  his 
feet  at  sight  of  Rhodes. 

"  Your  pardon,  senor,  I  stumbled  past  like  a  bat  blind 
in  the  light,"  he  muttered,  and  as  he  met  Kit's  eyes  and 


182  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

recognized  him  his  face  lit  up  and  his  white  teeth  gleamed 
in  a  smile. 

"  The  saints  are  in  it  that  you  are  here  again,  senor ! " 
he  exclaimed,  "and  you  came  on  this  day  when  most 
needed.'* 

"Eat  and  then  tell  your  meaning,"  said  Isidro,  but 
Clodomiro  glanced  toward  the  kitchen,  and  then  listened 
for  the  other  boys.  They  were  laughing  down  at  the 
corral.  Clodomiro's  horse  had  thrown  one  of  them. 

"With  your  permission,  grandfather,  talk  first,"  he 
said  and  the  two  men  moved  to  the  bench  opposite,  lean 
ing  over  towards  him  as  his  voice  was  lowered. 

"Today  Marto  Cavayso  sent  for  me,  he  is  foreman 
over  there,  and  strange  things  are  going  forward.  He 
has  heard  that  General  Rotil  stripped  Mesa  Blanca  and 
that  all  white  people  are  gone  from  it.  He  wants  this 
house  and  will  pay  us  well  to  open  the  door.  It  is  for  the 
woman.  They  have  played  a  game  for  her,  and  he  has 
won,  but  she  is  a  wild  woman  when  he  goes  near  her, 
and  his  plan  is  to  steal  her  out  at  night  and  hide  her  from 
the  others.  So  he  wants  this  house.  He  offered  me  a 
good  gun.  He  offers  us  the  protection  of  Don  Jose 
Perez." 

"But — why — that  is  not  credible,"  protested  Kit. 
"  He  could  not  count  on  protection  from  Perez  if  he  stole 
the  woman  whom  many  call  Senora  Perez,  for  that  is 
what  they  did  call  Dona  Jocasta  in  Hermosillo." 

"  Maybe  so,"  assented  Clodomiro  stolidly,  "  but  now  he 
is  to  be  the  esposo  of  a  Dona  Dolores  who  is  the  child 
of  General  Terain,  so  Marto  says.  Well,  this  Dona 
Jocasta  has  done  some  killing,  and  Don  Jose  does  not  give 


COVERING  THE  TRAIL 183 

her  to  prison.  He  sends  her  to  the  desert  that  she  brings 
him  no  disgrace ;  and  if  another  man  takes  her  or  sinks 
her  in  the  quicksands  then  that  man  will  be  helping  Don 
Jose.  That  is  how  it  is.  Marto  says  the  woman  has  be 
witched  him,  and  he  is  crazy  about  her.  Some  of  the 
other  men,  will  take  her,  if  not  him." 

Kit  exchanged  a  long  look  with  the  old  Indian. 

"  The  house  is  yours,  senor,"  said  Isidro.  "  By  the 
word  of  Senor  Whitely,  you  are  manager  of  Mesa 
Blanca." 

"  Many  thanks,"  replied  Kit,  and  sat  with  his  elbows 
on  the  table  and  his  hands  over  his  eyes,  thinking — 
thinking  of  the  task  he  had  set  himself  in  Sonora,  and 
the  new  turn  of  the  wheel  of  fortune. 

"  You  say  the  lady  is  a  prisoner  ?  "  he  asked. 

"Sure,"  returned  Clodomiro  promptly.  "She  broke 
loose  coming  through  a  little  pueblo  and  ran  to  the  church. 
She  found  the  priest  and  told  him  things,  so  they  also 
take  that  priest !  If  they  let  him  go  he  will  talk,  and  Don 
Jose  wanting  no  talk  now  of  this  woman.  That  priest  is 
well  cared  for,  but  not  let  go  away.  After  awhile,  maybe 
so." 

"  She  is  bright,  and  her  father  was  a  priest,"  mused  Kit. 
"  So  there  is  three  chances  out  of  four  that  she  can  read 
and  write,  —  a  little  anyway.  Could  you  get  a  letter  to 
her?" 

"Elena  could." 

Kit  got  up,  took  one  of  the  candles  from  the  table  and 
walked  through  the  rooms  surrounding  the  patio.  Some 
of  them  had  wooden  bars  in  the  windows,  but  others  had 
iron  grating,  and  he  examined  these  carefully. 


184  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

"  There  are  two  rooms  fit  for  perfectly  good  jails,"  he 
decided,  "so  I  vote  we  give  this  bewitched  Don  Marto 
the  open  door.  How  many  guns  can  we  muster  ?  " 

"  He  promised  to  give  me  one,  and  ammunition." 

"Well,  you  get  it!  Get  two  if  you  can,  but  at  least 
get  plenty  of  ammunition.  Isidro,  will  your  wife  be  brave 
and  willing  to  help?" 

The  old  Indian  nodded  his  head  vigorously  and  smiled. 
Evidently  only  a  stranger  would  ask  if  his  Valencia 
could  be  brave ! 

The  two  brothers  came  in,  and  conversation  was  more 
guarded  until  Clodomiro  had  finished  his  supper,  and  gone 
a  little  ways  home  with  them  to  repay  them  the  long  wait 
for  comradeship. 

When  he  came  back  Kit  had  his  plans  fairly  settled,  and 
had  a  brief  note  written  to  Senora  Jocasta  Perez,  as 
follows : 

HONORED  SENORA: 

One  chance  of  safety  is  yours.  Let  yourself  be  persuaded 
to  leave  Soledad  with  Marto.  You  will  be  rescued  from  him 
by 

AN  AMERICAN. 

"  I  reckon  that  will  do  the  trick,"  decided  Kit.  "  I  feel 
like  a  blooming  Robin  Hood  without  the  merry  men, — 
but  the  Indians  will  play  safe,  even  if  they  are  not  merry. 
When  can  you  get  this  to  Elena  ?  " 

"  In  time  of  breakfast,"  said  Clodomiro  promptly.  "  I 
go  tonight,  and  tomorrow  night  he  steals  that  woman. 
Maybe  Elena  helps." 

"  You  take  Elena  a  present  from  me  to  encourage  that 


COVERING  THE  TRAIL  185 

help,"  suggested  Kit,  and  he  poured  a  little  of  the  gold 
from  his  belt  on  the  paper.  "  Also  there  is  the  same  for 
you  when  the  lady  comes  safe.  It  is  best  that  you  make 
willing  offer  of  your  service  in  all  ways  so  that  he  calls 
on  none  of  his  own  men  for  help." 

"As  you  say,  sefior,"  assented  Clodomiro,  "and  that 
will  march  well  with  his  desires,  for  to  keep  the  others 
from  knowing  is  the  principal  thing.  She  has  beauty 
like  a  lily  in  the  shade." 

"He  tells  you  that?"  asked  Kit  quizzically,  but  the 
boy  shook  his  head. 

"My  own  eyes  looked  on  her.  She  is  truly  of  the 
beauty  of  the  holy  pictures  of  the  saints  in  the  chapel, 
but  Marto  says  she  is  a  witch,  and  has  him  enchanted;  — 
also  that  evil  is  very  strong  in  her.  I  do  not  know." 

"  Well,  cross  your  fingers  and  tackle  the  job,"  sug 
gested  Kit.  "  Get  what  sleep  you  can,  for  you  may  not 
get  much  tomorrow  night.  It  is  the  work  of  a  brave  man 
you  are  going  to  do,  and  your  pay  will  be  a  man's  pay." 

The  eyes  of  the  Indian  boy  glowed  with  pleasure. 

"At  your  service,  sefior.  I  will  do  this  thing  or  I  will 
not  see  Mesa  Blanca  again." 

Kit  looked  after  Clodomiro  and  rolled  another  cigarette 
before  turning  in  to  sleep. 

"  When  all's  said  and  done,  I  may  be  the  chief  goat  of 
this  dame  adventure,"  he  told  himself  in  derision.  "  May 
be  my  own  fingers  need  crossing." 


CHAPTER  XIII 

A  WOMAN  OF  EMERALD  EYES 

AT  THE  first  break  of  dawn,  Rhodes  was  up,  and 
without  waiting  for  breakfast  walked  over  to  the 
rancher ias  of  Palomitas  to  see  Tula. 

She  was  with  some  little  girls  and  old  women  carrying 
water  from  the  well  as  stolidly  as  though  adventure  had 
never  stalked  across  her  path.  A  whole  garment  had  been 
given  her  instead  of  the  tatter  of  rags  in  which  she  had 
returned  to  the  little  Indian  pueblo.  She  replied  briefly 
to  his  queries  regarding  her  welfare,  and  when  he  asked 
where  she  was  living,  she  accompanied  him  to  an  old 
adobe  where  there  were  two  other  motherless  children  — 
victims  of  the  raiders. 

An  old,  half -blind  woman  stirred  meal  into  a  kettle  of 
porridge,  and  to  her  Kit  addressed  himself. 

"A  blessing  will  be  on  your  house,  but  you  have  too 
many  to  feed  here,"  he  said  "and  the  child  of  Miguel 
should  go  to  the  ranch  house  of  Mesa  Blanca.  The  wife 
of  Isidro  is  a  good  woman  and  will  give  her  care." 

"Yes,  senor,  she  is  a  good  woman,"  agreed  the  old 
Indian.  "Also  it  may  be  a  safe  house  for  a  maiden, 
who  knows?  Here  it  is  not  safe;  other  raiders  may 


come." 


"  That  is  true.    Send  her  after  she  has  eaten." 

186 


A  WOMAN  OF  EMERALD  EYES          187 

He  then  sought  out  one  of  the  older  men  to  learn  who 
could  be  counted  on  to  round  up  the  stray  cattle  of  the 
ranges.  After  that  he  went  at  once  back  to  the  ranch 
house,  and  did  not  even  speak  to  Tula  again.  There 
was  nothing  to  indicate  that  she  was  the  principal  object 
of  his  visit,  or  that  she  had  acquired  a  guardian  who  was 
taking  his  job  seriously. 

Later  in  the  day  she  was  brought  to  Mesa  Blanca  by 
an  elderly  Indian  woman  of  her  mother's  clan,  and  settled 
in  the  quiet  Indian  manner  in  the  new  dwelling  place. 
Valencia  was  full  of  pity  for  the  girl  of  few  years  who 
had  yet  known  the  hard  trail,  and  had  mourned  alone  for 
her  dead. 

There  was  a  sort  of  suppressed  bustle  about  la  casa  de 
Mesa  Blanca  that  day,  dainties  of  cookery  prepared  with 
difficulty  from  the  diminished  stores,  and  the  rooms  of 
the  iron  bars  sprinkled  and  swept,  and  pillows  of  won 
drous  drawnwork  decorated  the  more  pretentious  bed. 
To  Tula  it  was  more  of  magnificence  than  she  had  ever 
seen  in  her  brief  life,  and  the  many  rooms  in  one  dwelling 
was  a  wonder.  She  would  stand  staring  across  the  patio 
and  into  the  various  doorways  through  which  she  hesi 
tated  to  pass.  She  for  whom  the  wide  silences  of  the 
desert  held  few  terrors,  hesitated  to  linger  alone  in  the 
shadows  of  the  circling  walls.  Kit  noted  that  when  each 
little  task  was  finished  for  Valencia,  she  would  go  out 
side  in  the  sunlight  where  she  had  the  familiar  ranges 
and  far  blue  mountains  in  sight. 

"  Here  it  makes  much  trouble  only  to  live  in  a  house," 
she  said  pointing  to  the  needlework  on  a  table  cover. 
"  The  bowls  of  food  will  make  that  dirty  in  one  eating, 


188 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

and  then  what  ?  Women  in  fine  houses  are  only  as  mares 
in  time  of  thrashing  the  grain  —  no  end  and  no  begin 
ning  to  the  work,  —  they  only  tread  their  circle." 

"Right  you  are,  sister/'  agreed  Kit,  "they  do  make 
a  lot  of  whirligig  work  for  themselves,  all  the  same  as 
your  grandmothers  painting  pottery  that  smash  like  egg 
shells.  But  life  here  isn't  all  play  at  that,  and  there  may 
be  something  doing  before  sleep  time  tonight.  I  went 
after  you  so  I  would  have  a  comrade  I  knew  would  stick." 

She  only  gazed  at  him  without  question. 

"  You  remember,  Tula,  the  woman  led  by  the  padre  at 
Soledad?" 

She  nodded  silently. 

"  It  may  be  that  woman  is  captive  to  the  same  men  who 
took  your  people/'  he  said  slowly  watching  her,  "  and  it 
may  be  we  can  save  her." 

"May  it  also  be  that  we  can  catch  the  man?"  she 
asked,  and  her  eyes  half  closed,  peered  up  at  him  in 
curious  intensity.  "  Can  that  be,  O  friend  ?  " 

"  Some  day  it  must  surely  be,  Tula." 

"One  day  it  must  be, — one  day,  and  prayers  are  mak 
ing  all  the  times  for  that  day,"  she  insisted  stolidly.  "  The 
old  women  are  talking,  and  for  that  day  they  want  him." 

"What  day,  Tula?" 

"The  Judas  day." 

Kit  Rhodes  felt  a  curious  creepy  sensation  of  being 
near  an  unseen  danger,  some  sleeping  serpent  basking  in 
the  sun,  harmless  until  aroused  for  attack.  He  thought 
of  the  gentle  domestic  Valencia,  and  now  this  child,  both 
centered  on  one  thought  —  to  sacrifice  a  traitor  on  the 
day  of  Judas! 


A  WOMAN  OF  EMERALD  EYES  189 

"Little  girls  should  make  helpful  prayers,"  he  ven 
tured  rather  lamely,  "not  vengeance  prayers." 

"I  was  the  one  to  make  cry  of  a  woman  when  my 
father  went  under  the  earth,"  she  said.  It  was  her  only 
expression  of  the  fact  that  she  had  borne  a  woman's 
share  of  all  their  joint  toil  in  the  desert,  —  and  he  caught 
her  by  the  shoulder,  as  she  ferned  away. 

"  Why,  Kid  Qeopatra,  it  isn't  a  woman's  work  you've 
done  at  all.  It's  a  man's  job  you've  held  down  and  held 
level,"  he  declared  heartily.  "  That's  why  I  am  counting 
on  you  now.  I  need  eyes  to  watch  when  I  have  to  be  in 
other  places." 

"  I  watch,"  she  agreed,  "  I  watch  for  you,  but  maybe 
I  make  my  own  prayers  also;  —  all  the  time  prayers." 

"Make  one  for  a  straight  trail  to  the  border,  and  all 
sentries  asleep ! "  he  suggested.  "  We  have  a  pile  of  yellow 
rock  to  get  across,  to  say  nothing  of  our  latest  puzzling 
prospect." 

As  the  day  wore  on  the  latest  "prospect"  presented 
many  complications  to  the  imagination,  and  he  tramped 
the  corridors  of  Mesa  Blanca  wondering  why  he  had  seen 
but  one  side  of  the  question  the  night  before,  for  in  the 
broad  light  of  day  there  seemed  a  dozen,  and  all  leading 
to  trouble!  That  emerald-eyed  daughter  of  a  renegade 
priest  had  proven  a  host  in  herself  when  it  came  to  breed 
ing  trouble.  She  certainly  had  been  unlucky. 

"  Well,  it  might  be  worse,"  he  confided  to  Bunting  out 
in  the  corral.  "  Cap  Pike  might  have  tagged  along  to  dis 
course  on  the  general  tomfoolery  of  a  partner  who  picks 
up  a  damsel  in  distress  at  every  fork  of  the  trail.  Not 
that  he'd  be  far  wrong  at  that,  Baby.  If  any  hombre 


190 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

wanted  to  catch  me  in  a  bear  trap  he'd  only  need  to  bait 
it  with  a  skirt." 

Baby  Bunting  nodded  sagaciously,  and  nuzzled  after 
Kit  who  was  cleaning  up  the  best  looking  saddle  horse 
brought  in  from  the  Indian  herd.  It  was  a  scraggy  sorrel 
with  twitchy  ears  and  wicked  eyes,  but  it  looked  tough 
as  a  mountain  buck.  Kit  knew  he  should  need  two  like 
that  for  the  northern  trail,  and  had  hopes  that  the  be 
witched  Marto  Cavayso,  whoever  he  was,,  would  furnish 
another. 

He  went  steadily  about  his  preparations  for  the  border 
trail,  just  as  if  the  addition  of  an  enchantress  with  green- 
jewel  eyes  was  an  every  day  bit  of  good  fortune  expected 
in  every  outfit,  but  as  the  desert  ranges  flamed  rose  and 
mauve  in  the  lowering  sun  there  was  a  restless  expectancy 
at  the  ranch  house,  bolts  and  locks  and  firearms  were 
given  final  inspection.  Even  at  the  best  it  was  a  scantily 
manned  fort  for  defense  in  case  Marto's  companions  at 
dice  should  question  his  winning  and  endeavor  to  capture 
the  stake. 

"I  shall  go  part  way  on  the  Soledad  trail  and  wait 
what  happens/'  he  told  Isidro.  "  I  will  remain  at  a  dis 
tance  unless  Clodomiro  needs  me.  There  is  no  telling 
what  tricks  this  Cavayso  may  have  up  his  sleeve." 

"I  was  thinking  that  same  thought,"  said  the  old 
Indiafi.  "The  men  of  Perez  are  not  trusted  long,  even 
by  Perez.  When  it  is  a  woman,  they  are  not  trusted  even 
in  sight!  Go  with  God  on  the  trail." 

The  ugly  young  sorrel  ran  tirelessly  the  first  half  of  the 
way,  just  enough  to  prove  his  wind.  Then  they  entered 
a  canon  where  scrub  cottonwoods  and  greasebush  gath- 


A  WOMAN  OF  EMERALD  EYES  191 

ered  moisture  enough  for  scant  growth  among  the 
boulders  worn  out  of  the  cliffs  by  erosion.  It  was  the 
safest  place  to  wait,  as  it  was  also  the  most  likely  place 
for  treachery  if  any  was  intended  to  Clodomiro.  At 
either  end  of  the  pass  lay  open  range  and  brown  desert, 
with  only  far  patches  of  oasis  where  a  well  was  found,  or 
a  sunken  river  marked  a  green  pasture  in  some  valley. 

When  he  wrote  the  note  he  had  not  thought  of  danger 
to  Clodomiro,  regarding  him  only  as  a  fearless  messenger, 
but  if  the  boy  should  prove  an  incumbrance  to  Cavayso 
after  they  were  free  of  Soledad,  that  might  prove  another 
matter,  and  as  old  Isidro  had  stated,  no  one  trusted  a 
Perez  man  when  a  woman  was  in  question! 

He  dismounted  to  listen  and  seek  safe  shadow,  for  the 
dusk  had  come,  and  desert  stars  swung  like  brilliant  lamps 
in  the  night  sky,  and  the  white  rocks  served  as  clear  back 
ground  for  any  moving  body. 

The  plan  was,  if  possible,  to  get  the  woman  out  with 
Clodomiro  while  the  men  were  at  supper.  The  mcmta  of 
Elena  could  cover  her,  and  if  she  could  walk  with  a  water 
jar  to  the  far  well  as  any  Indian  woman  would  walk,  and 
a  horse  hid  in  the  willows  there ! 

It  had  been  well  thought  out,  and  if  nothing  had  inter 
fered  they  should  have  reached  the  canon  an  hour  earlier. 
If  Clodomiro  had  failed  it  might  be  a  serious  matter,  and 
Kit  Rhodes  had  some  anxious  moments  for  the  stolen 
woman  while  dusk  descended  on  the  canon. 

He  listened  for  the  beat  of  horse  hoofs,  but  what  he 
heard  first  was  a  shot,  and  a  woman's  scream,  and  then 
the  walls  of  the  canon  echoed  the  tumult  of  horses  racing 
towards  him  in  flight 


192 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

He  recognized  Clodomiro  by  the  bare  head  and  banda, 
and  a  woman  bent  low  beside  him,  her  manta  flapping 
like  the  wings  of  a  great  bird  as  her  horse  leaped  forward 
beside  the  Indian  boy. 

Back  of  them  galloped  a  man  who  slowed  up  and  shot 
backward  at  the  foremost  of  a  pursuing  band. 

He  missed,  and  the  fire  was  returned,  evidently  with 
some  effect,  for  the  first  marksman  grunted  and  cursed, 
and  Kit  heard  the  clatter  of  his  gun  as  it  fell  from  his 
hand.  He  leaned  forward  and  spurred  his  horse  to  out 
run  the  pursuers.  He  was  evidently  Marto. 

Kit  had  a  mental  vision  of  fighting  Marto  alone  for  the 
woman  at  Mesa  Blanca,  or  fighting  with  the  entire  band 
and  decided  to  halt  the  leader  of  the  pursuers  and  gain 
that  much  time  at  least  for  the  woman  and  Clodomiro. 

He  had  mounted  at  the  first  sound  of  the  runaways, 
and  crouching  low  in  the  saddle,  hid  back  of  the  thick 
green  of  a  dwarfed  mesquite,  and  as  the  leader  came  into 
range  against  the  white  rock  well  he  aimed  low  and 
touched  the  trigger. 

The  horse  leaped  up  and  the  rider  slid  off  as  the  animal 
sunk  to  the  ground.  Kit  guided  his  mount  carefully  along 
shadowed  places  into  the  road  expecting  each  instant  a 
shot  from  the  man  on  the  ground. 

But  it  did  not  come,  and  he  gained  the  trail  before  the 
other  pursuers  rounded  the  bend  of  the  canon.  The 
sound  of  their  hoofs  would  deafen  them  to  his,  and  once 
on  the  trail  he  gave  the  sorrel  the  rein,  and  the  wild  thing 
went  down  the  gully  like  an  arrow  from  a  bow. 

He  was  more  than  a  little  puzzled  at  the  silence  back 
of  him.  The  going  down  of  the  one  man  and  horse  had 


A  WOMAN  OF  EMERALD  EYES  193 

evidently  checked  all  pursuit.  Relieved  though  he  was  at 
the  fact,  he  realized  it  was  not  a  natural  condition  of 
affairs,  and  called  for  explanation. 

The  other  three  riders  were  a  half  mile  ahead  and  he 
had  no  idea  of  joining  them  an  the  trail.  It  occurred  to 
him  there  was  a  possible  chance  of  taking  a  short  cut  over 
the  point  of  the  mesa  and  beating  them  to  the  home  ranch. 
There  was  an  even  chance  that  the  rougher  trail  would 
offer  difficulties  in  the  dark,  but  that  was  up  to  the  sorrel 
and  was  worth  the  trial. 

The  bronco  took  the  mesa  walls  like  a  cat,  climbed  and 
staggered  up,  slid  and  tumbled  down  and  crossed  the 
level  intervening  space  to  the  corral  as  the  first  sound  of 
the  others  came  beating  across  the  sands. 

A  dark  little  figure  arose  by  the  corral  bars  and  reached 
for  the  horse  as  he  slipped  from  the  saddle. 

"Quickly,  Tulita! "  he  said,  stripping  saddle  and  bridle 
from  its  back,  "  one  instant  only  to  make  ourselves  as  still 
as  shadows  under  the  walls  of  the  house." 

Fast  as  he  ran,  she  kept  pace  with  him  to  the  corridor 
where  Isidro  waited. 

"All  is  well,"  he  said  briefly  to  the  old  man.  " Clodo- 
miro  comes  safe  with  the  senora,  and  the  man  who  would 
steal  her  was  shot  and  lost  his  gun.  All  has  gone  very 
well." 

"Thanks  to  God!"  said  the  old  Indian.  "The  steal 
ing  of  women  has  ever  been  a  danger  near,  but  luck 
comes  well  to  you,  seiior,  and  it  is  good  to  be  under 
the  protection  of  you." 

"Open  the  door  and  show  a  light  of  welcome,"  said 
Kit.  "Call  your  wife  and  let  all  be  as  planned  by  us. 


194 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

I  will  be  in  the  shadows,  and  a  good  gun  for  safety  of 
the  woman  if  needed,  but  all  will  work  well,  as  you  will 
see." 

The  three  riders  came  up  to  the  portal  before  dis 
mounting,  and  Valencia  went  forward,  while  Isidro  held 
high  a  blazing  torch,  and  Qodomiro  dismounted  quickly, 
and  offered  help  to  the  woman. 

"  My  grandmother  has  all  for  your  comfort,  senora," 
he  said,  "  will  it  please  you  to  descend  ?  " 

The  man  swung  from  the  saddle,  awkwardly  nursing 
his  right  arm. 

"  Yes  this  is  a  safe  place,  Dona  Jocasta,"  he  declared. 
"It  is  all  well  arranged.  With  your  permission  I  may 
assist  you." 

He  offered  his  left  hand,  but  she  looked  from  him  to 
Valencia,  and  then  to  Clodomiro. 

"  You  are  young  to  be  a  stealer  of  women;  —  the  saints 
send  you  a  whiter  road ! "  she  said.  "  And  you  may  help 
me,  for  my  shoulder  has  a  hurt  from  that  first  shot  of 
the  comrade  of  this  man." 

"No,  senora,"  stated  her  captor,  "the  evil  shot  came 
from  no  comrade  of  mine.  They  did  not  follow  us,  those 
bandits — accursed  be  their  names!  They  were  hid  in 
the  canoncita  and  jumped  our  trail.  But  have  no  fear, 
Dona  Jocasta,  they  are  left  behind,  and  it  will  be  my 
pleasure  to  nurse  the  wounds  they  have  made." 

"  Be  occupied  with  your  own,"  she  suggested  pointing 
to  his  hand  from  which  blood  still  dripped,  "and  you, 
mother,  can  show  me  the  new  prison.  It  can  be  no  worse 
than  the  others." 

"Better,  much  better,  little  dove,"  said  Marto,  who 


A  WOMAN  OF  EMERALD  EYES  195 

followed  after  the  two  women,  and  glanced  over  their 
shoulders  into  the  guest  chamber  of  the  iron  bars,  "  it  is  a 
bird  cage  of  the  finest,  and  a  nest  for  harmonies." 

Then  to  Valencia  he  turned  with  authority,  "When 
you  have  made  the  senorita  comfortable,  bring  the  key  of 
the  door  to  me." 

"Si,  senor,"  said  Valencia  bending  low,  and  even  as 
the  prisoner  entered  the  room,  she  changed  the  key  to  the 
outside  of  the  door.  Marto  nodded  his  approval  and 
turned  away. 

"Now  this  shirt  off,  and  a  basin  of  water  and  a 
bandage,"  he  ordered  Isidro.  "  It  is  not  much,  and  it  still 
bleeds." 

"True,  it  does,  senor,  and  the  room  ordered  for  you 
has  already  the  water  and  a  clean  shirt  on  the  pillow. 
Clodomiro,  go  you  for  a  bandage,  and  fetch  wine  to 
take  dust  out  of  the  throat!  This  way,  senor,  —  and  may 
you  be  at  home  in  your  own  house ! " 

Unsuspecting,  the  amorous  Marto  followed  the  old  man 
into  the  room  prepared.  He  grunted  contemptuous  satis 
faction  at  evidences  of  comfort  extending  to  lace  curtains 
hanging  white  and  full  over  the  one  window. 

"It  is  the  time  for  a  shirt  of  such  cleanness,"  he  ob 
served,  with  a  grin.  "  Jesusita!  but  the  sleeve  sticks  to  me ! 
Cut  it  off,  and  be  quick  to  make  me  over  into  a  bride 
groom." 

The  old  man  did  as  he  was  bidden,  and  when  Clodomiro 
brought  in  a  woven  tray  covered  with  a  napkin  from 
which  a  bottle  of  wine  was  discernible,  Marto  grinned 
at  him. 

"It  is  a  soft  nest  you  found  for  me,  boy,"  he  said 


196  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

appreciatively,  "and  when  I  am  capitan  I  will  make  you 
lieutenant." 

"  Thanks  to  you,  sefior,  and  hasten  the  day ! " 

Clodomiro  assisted  his  grandfather,  and  stood  aside  at 
the  door  respectfully  as  the  old  man  passed  out  with  his 
primitive  supply  of  salves  and  antiseptics,  and  only  when 
all  need  of  caution  was  ended  the  boy  smiled  at  the 
would-be  Lothario,  and  the  smile  held  a  subtle  mockery 
as  he  murmured,  "The  saints  send  you  a  good  night's 
sleep,  sefior,  and  a  waking  to  health  —  and  clearer  sight! " 

"Hell  and  its  blazes  to  you!  why  do  you  grin?"  de 
manded  the  other  setting  down  the  bottle  from  which  he 
had  taken  a  long  and  grateful  drink,  but  quick  as  a  cat 
the  boy  pulled  the  door  shut,  and  slipped  the  bolt  on  the 
outside,  and  laughed  aloud. 

"Not  this  night  will  you  be  bridegroom  for  another 
man's  wife,  sefior!"  he  called.  "Also  it  is  better  that 
you  put  curb  on  your  curses,  —  for  the  lady  has  a  mind 
for  a  quiet  night  of  sleep." 

Marto  rushed  to  the  curtained  window  only  to  find  iron 
bars  and  the  glint  of  a  gun  barrel.  Isidro  held  the  gun, 
and  admonished  the  storming  captive  with  the  gentle 
fatalism  of  the  Indian. 

"It  is  done  under  orders  of  the  major-domo,  sefior. 
There  is  no  other  way.  If  your  words  are  hard  or  rough 
to  the  ears  of  the  lady,  there  is  a  bullet  for  you,  and  a 
hidden  place  for  your  grave.  This  is  the  only  word  to 
you,  senor.  It  is  given  me  to  say." 

"But — Gods,  saints,  and  devils  —  hearken  you  to 
me! "  stormed  the  man.  "  This  is  a  fool's  joke !  It  can't 
go  on!  I  must  be  back  at  sunrise  —  I  must!'' 


A  WOMAN  OF  EMERALD  EYES  197 

"You  will  see  many  suns  rise  through  these  bars  if 
the  padrone  so  pleases,"  murmured  Isidro  gently.  "  That 
is  not  for  us  to  decide." 

"To  hottest  hell  with  your  padrone  and  you!  Bring 
him  here  to  listen  to  me.  This  is  no  affair  of  a  man  and 
a  woman,  —  curse  her  witch  eyes  and  their  green  fires! 
There  is  work  afoot,  —  big  work,  and  I  must  get  back  to 
Soledad.  You  know  what  goes  over  the  trail  to  Soledad, 
—  every  Indian  knows!  It  is  the  cache  of  ammunition 
with  which  to  save  the  peon  and  Indian  slave,  —  you 
know  that!  You  know  the  revolutionists  must  get  it  to 
win  in  Sonora.  A  trap  is  set  for  tomorrow,  a  big  trap !  I 
must  be  there  to  help  spring  it.  To  you  there  will  be 
riches  and  safety  all  your  life  for  my  freedom  —  on  the 
cross  I  will  swear  that.  I " 

"  Sefior,  nothing  is  in  my  power,  and  of  your  traps  I 
know  nothing.  I  am  told  you  set  a  trap  for  a  lady  who 
is  in  grief  and  your  own  feet  were  caught  in  it.  That  is 
all  I  know  of  traps,"  said  Isidro. 

Kit  patted  the  old  man  on  the  shoulder  for  cleverness, 
even  while  he  wondered  at  the  ravings  of  the  would-be 
abductor.  Then  he  crept  nearer  the  window  where  he 
could  see  the  face  of  the  prisoner  clearly,  and  without 
the  overshadowing  hat  he  had  worn  on  entrance.  The 
face  gave  him  something  to  think  about,  for  it  was  that 
of  one  of  the  men  who  had  ridden  up  to  the  Yaqui  spring 
the  day  he  had  found  Tula  and  Miguel  in  the  desert. 
How  should  this  rebel  who  rode  on  secret  trails  with 
Ramon  Rotil  be  head  man  at  Soledad  for  Rotil's  enemy? 
And  what  was  the  trap  ? 

"  Look  well  at  that  man,  Isidro,"  he  whispered,  "  and 


198 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

tell  me  if  such  a  man  rode  here  to  Mesa  Blanca  with 
General  Rotil." 

"  No  such  man  was  here,  senor,  but  this  man  was  fore 
man  at  Soledad  before  the  Deliverer  came  over  the  eastern 
range  to  Mesa  Blanca.  Also  the  general  and  Don  Jose 
Perez  are  known  as  enemies;  —  the  friend  of  one  cannot 
be  the  friend  of  another." 

"True  enough,  Isidro,  but  that  does  not  help  me  to 
understand  the  trap  set.  Call  your  wife  and  learn  if  I  can 
see  the  Dona  Jocasta." 

Tula  had  crept  up  beside  them,  and  touched  him  on  the 
arm. 

"  She  asks  for  you,  and  sadness  is  with  her  very  much. 
She  watches  us  in  fear,  and  cannot  believe  that  the  door 
is  open  for  her." 

"If  that  is  her  only  trouble  we  can  clear  it  away  for 
her,  pronto''  he  stated,  and  they  entered  the  patio. 

"  It  is  not  her  only  trouble,  but  of  the  other  she  does 
not  speak.  Valencia  weeps  to  look  at  her." 

"Heavens!    Is  she  as  bad  looking  as  that?" 

"No,  it  is  another  reason,"  stated  the  girl  stolidly. 
"She  is  a  caged  humming  bird,  and  her  wings  have 
broken." 

Kit  Rhodes  never  forgot  that  first  picture  of  their  kid 
naped  guest,  for  he  agreed  with  Clodomiro  who  saw  in 
her  the  living  representation  of  old  biblical  saints. 

The  likeness  was  strengthened  by  the  half  Moorish 
drapery  over  her  head,  a  black  mantilla  which,  at  sound 
of  a  man's  step,  she  hurriedly  drew  across  the  lower  part 
of  her  face.  Her  left  arm  and  shoulder  was  bare,  and 
Valencia  bent  over  her  with  a  strip  of  old  linen  for 


A  WOMAN  OF  EMERALD  EYES  199 

bandage,  but  the  eyes  of  Dona  Jocasta  were  turned  half 
shrinking,  half  appraising  to  the  strange  Americano.  It 
was  plain  to  her  that  conquering  men  were  merely  the 
owners  of  women. 

"  It  is  good  you  come,  sefior,"  said  Valencia.  "  Here 
is  a  wound  and  the  bullet  under  the  skin.  I  have  waited 
for  Isidro  to  help  but  he  is  slow  on  the  way." 

"  He  is  busy  otherwise,  but  I  will  call  him  unless  my 
own  help  will  serve  here.  That  is  for  the  sefiora  to  say.'* 

The  eyes  of  the  girl,  —  she  was  not  more,  —  never  left 
his  face,  and  above  the  lace  scarf  she  peered  at  him  as 
through  a  mask. 

"  It  is  you  who  sent  messenger  to  save  an  unhappy  one 
you  did  not  know?  You  are  the  Americano  of  the 
letter?" 

"At  your  service,  sefiora.  May  that  service  begin 
now?" 

"  It  began  when  that  letter  was  written,  and  this  room 
made  ready,"  she  said.  "And  if  you  can  find  the  bullet 
it  will  end  the  unhappiness  of  this  good  woman.  She 
weeps  for  the  little  bit  of  lead.  It  should  have  struck  a 
heart  instead  of  a  shoulder." 

"Ah,  sefiora!"  lamented  Valencia,  "weep  like  a 
woman  over  sorrows.  It  is  a  better  way  than  to  mock." 

"  God  knows  it  is  not  for  me  to  mock ! "  breathed  the 
soft  voice  bitterly.  "And  if  the  sefior  will  lend  you  his 
aid,  I  will  again  be  in  his  debt." 

Without  further  words  Kit  approached,  and  Valencia 
drew  the  cover  from  the  shoulder  and  indicated  where 
the  ball  could  be  felt. 

"I  cannot  hold  the  shoulder  and  press  the  flesh  there 


200 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

without  making  much  pain,  too  much,"  stated  Valencia, 
"but  it -must  come  out,  or  there  will  be  trouble." 

"Sure  there  will,"  asserted  Kit,  "and  if  you  or  Tula 
will  hold  the  arm,  and  Dona  Jocasta  will  pardon  me " 

He  took  the  white  shoulder  in  his  two  hands  and  gently 
traced  the.  direction  of  the  bullet.  It  had  struck  in  the 
back  and  slanted  along  the  shoulder  blade.  It  was  evi 
dently  fired  from  a  distance  and  little  force  left.  Marto 
had  been  much  nearer  the  pursuer,  and  his  was  a  clean 
cut  wound  through  the  upper  arm. 

The  girl  turned  chalky  white  as  he  began  slowly  to 
press  the  bullet  backward  along  its  trail,  but  she  uttered 
no  sound,  only  a  deep  intake  of  breath  that  was  half  a 
sob,  and  the  cold  moisture  of  sickening  pain  stood  in 
beads  on  her  face. 

All  of  the  little  barriers  with  a  stranger  were  forgotten, 
and  the  shielding  scarf  fell  away  from  her  face  and 
bosom,  and  even  with  the  shadowed  emerald  eyes  closed, 
Kit  Rhodes  thought  her  the  most  perfect  thing  in  beauty 
he  had  ever  seen. 

He  hated  himself  for  the  pain  he  was  forcing  on  her 
as  he  steadily  followed  the  bullet  upward  and  upward 
until  it  lay  in  his  hand. 

She  did  not  faint,  as  he  feared  she  might,  but  fell 
back  in  the  chair,  while  Valencia  busied  herself  with  the 
ointment  and  bandage,  and  Tula,  at  a  word  from  Kit, 
poured  her  a  cup  of  wine. 

"Drink,"  he  said,  "if  only  a  little,  sefiora.  Your 
strength  has  served  you  well,  but  it  needs  help  now." 

She  swallowed  a  little  of  the  wine,  and  drew  the  scarf 
about  her,  and  after  a  little  opened  her  eyes  and  looked 


A  WOMAN  OF  EMERALD  EYES  201 

at  him.  He  smiled  at  her  approvingly,  and  offered  her 
the  bullet. 

"  It  may  be  you  will  want  it  to  go  on  some  shrine  to  a 
patron  saint,  senora,"  he  suggested,  but  she  did  not  take 
it,  only  looked  at  him  steadily  with  those  wonderful  eyes, 
green  with  black  lashes,  shining  out  of  her  marble  Ma 
donna-like  face. 

"My  patron  saint  traveled  the  trail  with  you,  Sefior 
Americano,  and  the  bullet  js  witness.  Let  me  see  it." 

He  gave  it  into  her  open  hand  where  she  balanced  it 
thoughtfully. 

"  So  near  the  mark,  yet  went  aside,"  she  murmured. 
"  Could  that  mean  there  is  yet  any  use  left  in  the  world 
forme?" 

"  Beauty  has  ;ts  own  use  in  the  world,  sefiora ;  that  is 
why  rose  gardens  are  planted." 

"  True,  sefior,  though  I  belong  no  more  to  the  gardens ; 
—  no,  not  to  gardens,  but  to  the  desert.  Neither  have  I 
place  nor  power  today,  and  I  may  never  have,  but  I  give 
back  to  you  this  witness  of  your  great  favor.  If  a  day 
comes  when  I,  Jocasta,  can  give  favor  in  return,  bring 
or  send  this  witness  of  the  ride  tonight.  I  will  redeem  it." 

"The  favor  is  to  me,  and  calls  for  no  redemption," 
said  Kit  awkward  at  the  regal  poise  of  her,  and  enchanted 
by  the  languorous  glance  and  movement  of  her.  Even 
the  reaching  out  of  her  hand  made  him  think  of  Tula's 
words,  'a  humming  bird/  if  one  could  imagine  such  a 
jewel-winged  thing  weighted  down  with  black  folds  of 
mourning. 

"  A  caged  humming  bird  with  broken  wings ! "  and  that 
memory  brought  another  thought,  and  he  fumbled  the 


202 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

bullet,  and  gave  the  first  steady  look  into  those  emerald, 
side-glancing  eyes. 

"But — there  is  a  compact  I  should  appreciate  if  Dona 
Jocasta  will  do  me  the  favor,  —  and  it  is  that  she  sets 
value  on  the  life  that  is  now  her  very  own,  and,  that  she 
forgets  not  to  cherish  it." 

"  Ah-h ! "  She  looked  up  at  him  piteously  a  moment, 
and  then  the  long  lashes  hid  her  eyes,  and  her  head  was 
bent  low.  "  Sinful  and  without  shame  have  I  been !  and 
they  have  told  you  of  the  knife  I  tried  to  use  —  here!" 

She  touched  her  breast  with  her  slender  ring-laden 
hand,  and  her  voice  turned  mocking. 

"But  you  see,  Senor  Americano,  even  Death  will  not 
welcome  me,  and  neither  steel  nor  lead  will  serve  me ! " 

"  Life  will  serve  you  better,  sefiora." 

"Not  yet  has  it  done  so,  and  I  am  a  woman  —  old  — 
old !  I  am  twenty,  senor,  and  refused  of  Death !  Jocasta 
Benicia  they  named  me.  Jocasta  Perdida  it  should  have 
been  to  fit  the  soul  of  me,  so  why  should  I  promise  a  man 
whom  I  do  not  know  that  I  will  cherish  my  life  when  I 
would  not  promise  a  padre?  Answer  me  that,  senor 
whose  name  has  not  been  told  me!" 

"But  you  will  promise,  sefiora,"  insisted  Kit,  smiling 
a  little,  though  thrilled  by  the  sadness  of  life's  end  at 
twenty,  "and  as  for  names,  if  you  are  Dona  Perdida  I 
may  surely  name  myself  Don  Esperenzo,  for  I  have  not 
only  hope,  but  conviction,  that  life  is  worth  living!" 

"To  a  man,  yes,  and  Mexico  is  a  man's  land." 

"Ay,  it  must  be  yours  as  well, — beautiful  that  thou 
art!"  murmured  Valencia  adoringly.  "You  should  not 
give  yourself  a  name  of  sadness,  for  this  is  our  Senor  El 


A  WOMAN  OF  EMERALD  EYES  203 

Pajarito,  who  is  both  gay  and  of  honesty.  He,  —  with 
God,  —  is  your  protection,  and  harm  shall  not  be  yours." 

Dona  Jocasta  reached  out  and  touched  kindly  the  bent 
head  of  the  Indian  woman. 

"  As  you  will,  mother.  With  hope  and  a  singer  for  a 
shield,  even  a  prison  would  not  be  so  bad,  El  Pajarito,  eh? 
Do  you  make  songs  —  or  sing  them,  senor?" 

"  Neither,  —  I  am  only  a  lucky  bluff.  My  old  partner 
and  I  used  to  sing  fool  things  to  the  mules,  and  as  we 
could  out-bray  the  burros  my  Indio  friends  are  kind  and 
call  it  a  singing;  —  as  easy  as  that  is  it  to  get  credit  for 
talent  in  this  beneficent  land  of  yours!  But  —  the  com 
pact,  sefiora?" 

Her  brows  lifted  wearily,  yet  the  hint  of  a  smile  was 
in  her  eyes. 

"Yes,  since  you  ask  so  small  a  thing,  it  is  yours. 
Jocasta  makes  compact  with  you ;  give  me  a  wish  that  the 
life  is  worth  it." 

"  Sure  I  will,"  said  Kit  holding  out  his  hand,  but  she 
shrunk  perceptibly,  and  her  hand  crept  out  of  sight  in  the 
black  draperies. 

"  You  have  not,  perhaps,  ever  sent  a  soul  to  God  with 
out  absolution?"  she  asked  in  a  breathless  hushed  sort  of 
voice.  "  No  senor,  the  look  of  you  tells  me  you  have  not 
been  so  unpardonable.  Is  it  not  so  ? " 

"Why,  yes,"  returned  Kit,  "it  hasn't  been  a  habit 
with  me  to  start  anyone  on  the  angels'  flight  without  giv 
ing  him  time  to  bless  himself,  but  even  at  that " 

"No,  no!"  as  he  took  a  step  nearer.  "The  compact 
is  ours  without  handclasp.  The  hand  of  Jocasta  is  the 
hand  of  the  black  glove,  sefior. " 


204 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

He  looked  from  her  to  the  two  Indians,  the  old  woman 
kneeling  beside  Jocasta  and  crossing  herself,  and  Tula, 
erect  and  slender  against  the  adobe  wall,  watching  him 
stolidly.  There  was  no  light  on  the  subject  from  either 
of  them. 

"Pardon,  I'm  but  a  clumsy  Americano,  not  wise  to 
your  meanings,"  he  ventured,  "  and  beautiful  hands  look 
better  without  gloves  of  any  color." 

"  It  may  be  so,  yet  I  have  heard  that  no  matter  how 
handsome  a  headsman  may  be,  he  wears  a  black  mask, 
and  hands  are  not  stretched  out  to  touch  his." 

"Senora!" 

"  Sefior,  we  arrive  at  nothing  when  making  speech  of 
me,"  she  said  with  a  little  sigh.  "  Our  ride  was  hard,  and 
rest  is  best  for  all  of  us.  Our  friend  here  tells  me  there 
is  supper,  and  if  you  will  eat  with  me,  we  will  know 
more  of  how  all  this  has  come  about.  It  is  strange  that 
you,  a  lone  Americano  in  this  land,  should  plan  this  ad 
venture  like  a  bandit,  and  steal  not  only  the  major-domo 
of  Soledad,  but  the  woman  he  would  steal ! " 

"  It  was  so  simple  that  the  matter  is  not  worth  words 
except  as  concerns  Clodomiro,  who  was  the  only  one  in 
danger." 

"Ah!  if  ever  they  had  suspected  him!  You  have  not 
seen  that  band  of  men,  they  are  terrible !  Of  all  the  men 
of  Jose  Perez  they  are  the  blackest  hearts,  and  if  it  had 
not  been  for  the  poor  padre " 

"  Tell  me  of  him,"  said  Kit  who  perceived  she  was  will 
ing  enough  to  speak  plainly  of  all  things  except  herself. 
"  He  is  a  good  man  ?  " 

"  A  blessing  to  me,  senor ! "  she  asserted  earnestly  as 


A  WOMAN  OF  EMERALD  EYES  205 

they  were  seated  at  the  table  so  carefully  prepared  by 
Valencia.  "Look  you!  I  broke  away  from  those  ani 
mals  and  in  a  little  mountain  village,  —  such  a  one  as  I  was 
born  in,  senor !  —  I  ran  to  the  altar  of  the  little  chapel,  and 
that  priest  was  a  shield  for  me.  Against  all  the  men  he 
spoke  curses  if  they  touched  me.  Well,  after  that  there 
was  only  one  task  to  do,  and  that  was  to  carry  him  along. 
I  think  they  wanted  to  kill  him,  and  had  not  the  courage. 
And  after  all  that  I  came  away  from  Soledad  without 
saving  him;  —  that  was  bad  of  me,  very  bad!  I  —  I  think 
I  went  wild  in  the  head  when  I  saw  the -men  play  games 
of  cards,  and  I  to  go  to  the  winner!  Not  even  a  knife 
for  food  would  they  give  me,  for  they  knew " 

She  shuddered,  and  laid  down  quickly  the  knife  she  had 
lifted  from  beside  her  plate,  and  glanced  away  when  she 
found  him  regarding  her. 

"  It  has  been  long  weeks  since  I  was  trusted  as  you  are 
trusting  me  here,"  she  continued  quietly.  "  See !  On  my 
wrists  were  chains  at  first." 

"And  this  Marto  Cavayso  did  that?"  demanded  Kit 
as  she  showed  her  scarred  slender  wrist  over  which 
Valencia  had  wept. 

"No,  it  was  before  Cavayso  —  he  is  a  new  man  —  so 
I  think  this  was  when  Conrad  was  first  helping  to  plan  me 
as  an  insane  woman  and  have  me  put  secretly  to  prison, 
but  some  fear  struck  Jose  Perez,  and  that  plan  would  not 
serve.  In  the  dark  of  night  I  was  half  smothered  in 
wraps  and  put  in  an  ox-cart  of  a  countryman  and  hauled 
north  out  of  the  city.  Two  men  rode  as  guard.  They 
chained  me  in  the  day  and  slept,  traveling  only  in  the 
night  until  they  met  Cavayso  and  his  men.  After  that 


206 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

I  remember  little,  I  was  so  weary  of  life!  One  alcalde 
asked  about  me  and  Cavayso  said  I  was  his  wife  who  had 
run  away  with  a  gypsy  fiddler,  and  he  was  taking  me 
home  to  my  children.  Of  what  use  to  speak?  A  dozen 
men  would  have  added  their  testimony  to  his,  and  had 
sport  in  making  other  romance  against  me.  They  were 
sullen  because  they  thought  I  had  jewels  hid  under  my 
clothes,  and  Cavayso  would  not  let  them  search  me.  It 
has  been  hell  in  these  hills  of  Sonora,  Senor  Pajarito." 

"That  is  easy  to  understand,"  agreed  Kit  wondering 
at  her  endurance,  and  wondering  at  the  poise  and  beauty 
of  her  after  such  experience.  There  was  no  trace  of 
nervousness,  or  of  tears,  or  self-pity.  It  was  as  if  all 
this  of  which  she  told  had  been  a  minor  affair,  dwarfed 
by  some  tragic  thing  to  which  he  had  no  key. 

"  So,  Conrad  was  in  this  plot  against  you  ?  "  he  asked, 
and  knew  that  Tula,  standing  back  of  his  chair  had  missed 
no  word.  "You  mean  the  German  Conrad  who  is  man 
ager  of  Granados  ranches  across  the  border?" 

"  Senor,  I  mean  the  beast  whose  trail  is  red  with  the 
blood  of  innocence,  and  whose  poison  is  sinking  into  the 
veins  of  Mexico  like  a  serpent,  striking  secretly,  now 
here,  now  there,  until  the  blood  of  the  land  is  black  with 
that  venom.  Ay!  I  know,  senor;  —  the  earth  is  acrawl 
with  the  German  lizards  creeping  into  the  shining  sun  of 
Mexico!  This  so  excellent  Don  Adolf  Conrad  is  only 
one,  and  Jose  Perez  is  his  target  —  I  am  the  one  to  know 
that !  A  year  ago,  and  Don  Jose  was  a  man,  with  faults 
perhaps;  but  who  is  perfect  on  this  earth?  Then  came 
Don  Adolf  riding  south  and  is  very  great  gentleman  and 
makes  friends.  His  home  in  Hermosillo  becomes  little 


A  WOMAN  OF  EMERALD  EYES  207 

by  little  the  house  of  Perez,  and  little  by  little  Perez  goes 
on  crooked  paths.  That  is  true!  First  it  was  to  buy  a 
ship  for  coast  trade,  then  selling  rifles  in  secret  where 
they  should  not  be  sold,  then — shame  it  is  to  tell  —  men 
and  women  were  sold  and  carried  on  that  ship  like  cattle ! 
Not  rebels,  seiior,  not  prisoners  of  battle, — but  herdsmen 
and  ranch  people,  poor  Indian  farmers  whom  only  devils 
would  harm!  Thus  it  was,  senor,  until  little  by  little 
Don  Adolf  knew  so  much  that  Jose  Perez  awoke  to  find 
he  had  a  master,  and  a  strong  one !  It  was  not  one  man 
alone  who  caught  him  in  the  net ;  it  was  the  German  com 
rades  of  D'on  Adolf  who  never  forgot  their  task,  even 
when  he  was  north  in  the  States.  They  needed  a  man  of 
name  in  Hermosillo,  and  Jose  Perez  is  now  that  man. 
When  the  whip  of  the  German  cracks,  he  must  jump  to 
serve  their  will." 

"  But  Jose  Perez  is  a  strong  man.  Before  this  day  he 
has  wiped  many  a  man  from  his  trail  if  the  man  made 
him  trouble,"  ventured  Kit. 

"  You  have  right  in  that,  sefior,  but  I  am  telling  you 
it  is  a  wide  net  they  spread  and  in  that  net  he  is  snared. 
Also  his  household  is  no  longer  his  own.  The  Indian 
house  servants  are  gone,  and  outlaw  Japanese  are  there 
instead.  That  is  true  and  their  dress  is  the  dress  of 
Indians.  They  are  Japanese  men  of  crimes,  and  German 
men  gave  aid  that  they  escape  from  justice  in  Japan. 
It  is  because  they  need  such  men  for  German  work  in 
Mexico,  men  who  have  been  taught  German  and  dare 
not  turn  rebel.  Not  an  hour  of  the  life  of  Jose  Perez 
is  free  from  the  eyes  of  a  spy  who  is  a  man  o»f  crimes. 
And  there  are  other  snares.  They  tell  him  that  he  is  to 


208  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

be  a  governor  by  their  help ;  —  that  is  a  rich  bait  to  float 
before  the  eyes  of  a  man !  His  feet  are  set  on  a  trail  made 
by  Adolph  Conrad, —  He  is  trapped,  and  there  is  no 
going  back.  Poison  and  shame  and  slavery  and  death 
have  come  upon  that  trail  like  black  mushrooms  grown 
in  a  night,  and  what  the  end  of  the  trail  will  be  is  hid 
in  the  heart  of  God." 

"But  your  sympathy  is  with  those  women  in  slavery 
there  in  the  south,  and  not  with  the  evil  friend  of  Jose 
Perez  ?"  asked  Kit. 

"Can  you  doubt,  senor?  Am  I  not  as  truly  a  victim 
as  they  ?  I  have  not  worked  under  a  whip,  but  there  are 
other  punishments  —  for  a  woman!" 

Her  voice  dropped  almost  to  a  whisper,  and  she  rested 
her  chin  on  her  hand,  staring  out  into  the  shadows  of 
the  patio,  oblivious  of  them  all.  Tula  gazed  at  her  as 
if  fascinated,  and  there  was  a  difference  in  her  regard. 
That  she  was  linked  in  hate  against  Conrad  gave  the 
Indian  girl  common  cause  with  the  jewel-eyed  woman 
whose  beauty  had  been  the  boast  of  a  province.  Kit 
noticed  it  and  was  vastly  comforted.  The  absolute 
stolidity  of  Tula  had  left  him  in  doubt  as  to  the  outcome 
if  his  little  partner  had  disapproved  of  his  fascinating 
protegee.  He  knew  the  thing  she  wanted  to  know,  and 
asked  it. 

"  Senora,  the  last  band  of  Indian  slaves  from  Sonora 
were  driven  from  the  little  pueblo  of  Palomitas  at  the 
edge  of  this  ranch.  And  there  are  sisters  and  mothers 
here  with  sick  hearts  over  that  raid.  Can  you  tell  me 
where  those  women  were  sent  ?  " 

"Which  raid  was  that,  and  when?"  asked  Jocasta 


A  WOMAN  OF  EMERALD  EYES  209 

arousing  herself  from  some  memory  in  which  she  had  been 
submerged.  "  Pardon,  senor,  I  am  but  a  doleful  guest  at 
supper,  thinking  too  deeply  of  that  which  sent  me  here. 
Your  question?" 

He  repeated  it,  and  she  strove  to  remember. 

"  There  were  many,  and  no  one  was  told  whence  they 
came.  It  was  supposed  they  were  war  prisoners  who  had 
to  be  fed,  and  were  being  sent  to  grow  their  own  maize. 
If  it  were  the  last  band  then  it  would  be  the  time  Conrad 
had  the  wound  in  the  face,  here,  like  a  knife  thrust,  and 
that " 

"That  was  the  time,"  interrupted  Kit  eagerly.  "If 
you  can  tell  us  where  those  people  were  sent  you  will 
prove  the  best  of  blessings  to  Mesa  Blanca  this  night." 

She  smiled  sadly  at  that  and  looked  from  him  to  Tula, 
whom  she  evidently  noted  for  the  first  time. 

"It  is  long  since  the  word  of  blessing  has  been  given 
to  Jocasta,"  she  said  wistfully.  "  It  would  be  a  comfort 
to  earn  it  in  this  house.  But  that  band  was  not  sent  away, 
—  not  far.  Something  went  wrong  with  the  boat  down 
the  coast,  I  forgot  what  it  was,  but  there  was  much 
trouble,  and  the  Indians  were  sent  to  a  plantation  of  the 
General  Terain  until  the  boat  was  ready.  I  do  not  know 
what  plantation,  except  that  Conrad  raged  about  it.  He 
and  Don  Jose  had  a  quarrel,  very  terrible !  That  wound 
given  to  him  by  a  woman  made  him  very  difficult;  then 
the  quarrel  ended  by  them  drinking  together  too  much. 
And  after  that  many  things  happened  very  fast,  and  — 
I  was  brought  north." 

"And  the  Indians?" 

"  Senor,  I  do  not  think  anyone  thought  again  of  those 


210 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

Indians.  They  are  planting  maize  or  cane  somewhere 
along  the  Rio  Sonora." 

Tula  sank  down  weeping  against  the  wall,  while 
Valencia  stroked  her  hair  and  patted  her.  Dona  Jocasta 
regarded  her  curiously. 

"To  be  young  enough  to  weep  like  that  over  a  sor 
row  ! "  she  murmured  wistfully.  "  It  is  to  envy  her,  and 
not  mourn  over  her." 

"  But  this  weeping  is  of  joy, "  explained  Valencia.  "  It 
is  as  the  senor  says,  a  blessing  has  come  with  you  over  the 
hard  road.  This  child  was  also  stolen,  and  was  clever 
to  escape.  Her  mother  and  her  sister  are  yet  there  in 
that  place  where  the  maize  is  planted.  If  the  boat  has  not 
taken  them,  then  they  also  may  get  back.  It  is  a  hope ! " 

"  Poor  little  one !  and  now  that  I  could  make  good  use 
of  power,  it  is  no  longer  mine,"  said  Jocasta,  looking  at 
Kit  regretfully.  "  A  young  maid  with  courage  to  escape 
has  earned  the  right  to  be  given  help." 

"  She  will  be  given  it,"  he  answered  quietly,  "  and  since 
your  patience  has  been  great  with  my  questions,  I  would 
ask  more  of  this  Cavayso  we  have  trapped  tonight.  He 
is  raging  of  curious  things  there  across  the  patio.  Isidro 
holds  a  gun  on  him  that  he  subdue  his  shouts,  and  his  offer 
is  of  rich  bribes  for  quick  freedom.  He  is  as  mad  to  get 
back  to  Soledad  as  he  was  to  leave  it,  and  he  tells  of  a  trap 
set  there  for  someone.  It  concerns  ammunition  for  the 
revolutionists." 

"  No,  not  for  them,  but  for  trade  in  the  south,"  said 
Jocasta  promptly.  "Yes,  Soledad  has  long  been  the 
place  for  hiding  of  arms.  It  was  the  task  of  Don  Adolf 
to  get  them  across  the  border,  and  then  a  man  of  Don 


A  WOMAN  OF  EMERALD  EYES  211 

Jose  finds  a  safe  trail  for  them.  Sometimes  a  German 
officer  from  Tucson  is  of  much  help  there  in  the  north. 
I  have  heard  Don  Jose  and  Conrad  laugh  about  the  so 
easily  deceived  Americanos, — your  pardon,  senor!" 

"  Oh,  we  are  used  to  that,"  agreed  Kit  easily,  "  and  it  is 
quite  true.  We  have  a  whole  flock  of  peace  doves  up 
there  helping  the  Hohenzollern  game.  What  was  the 
officer's  name?" 

"A  name  difficult  and  long,"  she  mused,  striving  to 
recall  it.  "  But  that  name  was  a  secret,  and  another  was 
used.  He  was  known  only  as  a  simple  advocate — James, 
the  name;  I  remember  that  for  they  told  me  it  was  the 
English  for  Diego,  which  was  amusing  to  me,  —  there  is 
no  sound  alike  in  them ! " 

"That's  true,  there  isn't,"  said  Kit,  who  had  no  spe 
cial  interest  in  any  advocate  named  James.  "But  to 
get  back  to  the  man  in  the  cell  over  there  and  the  am 
munition,  may  I  ask  if  he  confided  to  you  anything  of 
that  place  of  storage?  I  mean  Cavayso?" 

"  No,  senor ;  and  for  a  reason  of  the  best.  He  knows 
nothing,  and  all  his  days  and  nights  were  spent  search 
ing  secretly  for  the  entrance  to  that  dungeon,  — if  it  is  a 
dungeon!  He  thought  I  should  know,  and  made  threats 
against  me  because  I  would  not  tell.  Myself,  I  think 
Jose  Perez  tells  no  one  that  hiding  place,  not  even  Conrad, 
though  Conrad  has  long  wanted  it !  I  told  Don  Jose  that 
if  he  told  that  he  was  as  good  as  a  dead  man,  and  I  believe 
it.  But  now,"  and  she  shook  her  head  fatefully,  "now  he 
is  sure  to  get  it ! " 

"  But  he  swears  he  must  get  back  to  Soledad  by  sunrise 
for  a  trap  is  set.  A  trap  for  whom  ?  "  persisted  Kit. 


212 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

Dona  Jocasta  shook  her  head  uncomprehendingly. 

"  God  forbid  he  should  get  free  to  put  those  wolves  on 
my  track;  then  indeed  I  would  need  a  knife,  senor!  He 
held  them  back  from  me  on  the  trail,  but  now  he  would 
not  hold  them  back." 

"But  the  trap,  sefiora?"  repeated  the  puzzled  Kit. 
"  That  man  was  in  earnest,  —  dead  in  earnest !  He  did  not 
know  I  was  listening,  his  words  were  only  for  an  Indian, 
—  for  Isidro.  Who  could  he  trap?  Was  he  expecting 
anyone  at  Soledad?" 

Dona  Jocasta  looked  up  with  a  little  gasp  of  remem 
brance. 

"  It  is  true,  a  courier  did  come  two  days  ago  from  the 
south,  and  Cavayso  told  me  he  meant  to  take  me  to  the 
desert  and  hide  me  before  Don  Jose  arrived.  Also  more 
mules  and  wagons  came  in.  And  Elena  scolded  about 
men  who  came  to  eat  but  not  to  work.  Yes,  they  smoked, 
and  talked,  and  talked,  and  waited!  I  never  thought  of 
them  except  to  have  a  great  fear.  Yesterday  after  the 
lad  brought  me  that  letter  I  had  not  one  thought,  but  to 
count  the  hours,  and  watch  the  sun.  But  it  may  be 
Cavayso  told  the  truth,  and  that  Don  Jose  was  indeed 
coming.  He  told  me  he  had  promised  Perez  to  lose  me 
in  the  Arroya  Maldioso  if  in  no  other  way,  and  he  had 
to  manage  that  I  never  be  seen  again." 

"Arroya  Maldioso?"  repeated  Kit,  "I  don't  under 
stand." 

"It  is  the  great  quicksand  of  Soledad,  green  things 
grow  and  blossom  there  but  no  living  thing  can  cross 
over.  It  is  beautiful  —  that  little  arroya,  and  very  bad." 

"I  had  heard  of  it,  but  forgot,"  acknowledged  Kit, 


A  WOMAN  OF  EMERALD  EYES  213 

"  but  that  is  not  the  trap  of  which  he  is  raving  now.  It 
is  some  other  thing/' 

Dona  Jocasta  did  not  know.  She  confessed  that  her 
mind  was  dark  and  past  thinking.  The  ways  of  Don 
Jose  and  Conrad  were  not  easy  for  other  men  of  differ 
ent  lives  to  understand;  —  there  was  a  great  net  of  war 
and  scheming  and  barter,  and  D'on  Jose  was  snared  in 
that  net,  and  the  end  no  man  could  see ! 

"  Have  you  ever  heard  that  Marto  Cavayso  was  once 
a  lieutenant  of  General  Rotil?"  Kit  asked. 

"The  Deliverer!"  she  gasped,  leaning  forward  and 
staring  at  him.  A  deep  flush  went  over  her  face  and 
receded,  leaving  her  as  deathly  pale  as  when  the  bullet 
had  been  forced  from  the  white  shoulder.  Her  regard 
was  curious,  for  her  brows  were  contracted  and  there 
was  domination  and  command  in  her  eyes.  "Why  do 
you  say  this  to  me,  senor?  And  why  do  you  think  it?" 

Kit  was  astonished  at  the  effect  of  his  words,  and  quite 
as  much  astonished  to  hear  anyone  of  the  Perez  house 
hold  refer  to  Rotil  as  "  the  Deliverer." 

"  Senora,  if  you  saw  him  ride  side  by  side  with  Rotil, 
drinking  from  the  same  cup  in  the  desert,  would  you  not 
also  think  it?" 

Tula  rose  to  her  feet,  and  moved  closer  to  Kit. 

"I  too  was  seeing  them  together,  senora,"  she  said. 
"It  was  at  the  Yaqui  well;  I  drew  the  water,  and  they 
drank  it.  This  man  of  the  loud  curses  is  the  man." 

Dona  Jocasta  covered  her  eyes  with  her  hand,  and  she 
seemed  shaken.  No  one  else  spoke,  and  the  silence  was 
only  broken  by  the  muffled  tones  of  Marto  in  the  cell,  and 
the  brief  bark  of  Clodomiro's  dog  at  the  corral. 


214 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

"  God  knows  what  may  be  moving  forward,"  she  said 
at  last,  "  but  there  is  some  terrible  thing  afoot.  Take  me 
to  this  man." 

"It  may  not  be  a  pleasant  thing  to  do,"  advised  Kit. 
"  This  is  a  man's  game,  senora,  and  his  words  might  of 
fend,  for  his  rage  is  very  great  against  you." 

"  Words ! "  she  said  with  a  note  of  disdain,  and  arose 
to  her  feet.  She  swayed  slightly,  and  Valencia  steadied 
her,  and  begged  her  to  wait  until  morning,  for  her 
strength  was  gone  and  the  night  was  late. 

"Peace,  woman!  Who  of  us  is  sure  of  a  morning? 
This  minute  is  all  the  time  that  is  ours,  and  —  I  must 
know." 

She  leaned  on  Valencia  as  they  crossed  the  patio,  and 
Tula  moved  a  seat  outside  the  door  of  Marto's  room.  Kit 
fastened  a  torch  in  the  holder  of  the  brick  pillar  and 
opened  the  door  without  being  seen,  and  stood  watching 
the  prisoner. 

Marto  Cavayso,  who  had  been  pleading  with  Isidro, 
whirled  only  to  find  the  barrel  of  another  gun  thrust 
through  the  carved  grill  in  the  top  of  the  door. 

"Isidro,"  said  Kit,  "this  man  is  to  answer  questions 
of  the  senora.  If  he  is  uncivil  you  can  singe  him  with 
a  bullet  at  your  own  will." 

"Many  thanks,  senor,"  returned  Isidro  promptly. 
"  That  is  a  pleasant  work  to  think  of,  for  the  talk  of  this 
shameless  gentleman  is  poison  to  the  air." 

"  You ! "  burst  out  Marto,  pointing  a  hand  at  Jocasta  in 
the  corridor.  "You  put  witchcraft  of  hell  on  me,  and 
wall  me  in  here  with  an  old  lunatic  for  guard,  and 
now " 


A  WOMAN  OF  EMERALD  EYES          215 

Bing!  A  bullet  from  Isidro's  rifle  whistled  past  Mar- 
to's  ear  and  buried  itself  in  the  adobe,  scattering  plaster 
and  causing  the  prisoner  to  crouch  back  in  the  corner. 

Jocasta  regarded  him  as  if  waiting  further  speech,  but 
none  came. 

"  That  is  better,"  she  said.  "  No  one  wishes  to  do  you 
harm,  but  you  need  a  lesson  very  badly.  Now  Marto 
Cavayso,  —  if  that  be  your  name !  —  why  did  you  carry  me 
away  ?  Was  it  your  own  doing,  or  were  you  under  orders 
of  your  General  Rotil?" 

"  I  should  have  let  the  men  have  you,'*  he  muttered.  "  I 
was  a  bewitched  man,  or  you  never  would  have  traveled 
alive  to  see  Soledad.  Rotil  ?  Do  not  the  handsome  women 
everywhere  offer  him  love  and  comradeship?  Would 
he  risk  a  good  man  to  steal  a  woman  of  whom  Jose  Perez 
is  tired?"  ' 

"  You  are  not  the  one  to  gjive  judgment,"  said  a  strange 
voice  outside  the  barred  window. —  "That  I  did  not 
send  you  to  steal  women  is  very  true,  and  the  task  I  did 
send  you  for  has  been  better  done  by  other  men  in  your 
absence." 

Cavayso  swore,  and  sat  on  the  bed,  his  head  in  his 
hands.  Outside  the  window  there  were  voices  in  friendly 
speech,  that  of  Clodomiro  very  clear  as  he  told  his  grand 
father  the  dogs  did  not  bark  but  once,  because  some  of 
the  Mesa  Blanca  boys  were  with  the  general,  who  was 
wounded. 

Kit  closed  and  bolted  again  the  door  of  Cavayso,  feel 
ing  that  the  guardianship  of  beauty  in  Sonora  involved 
a  man  in  many  awkward  and  entangling  situations.  If 
it  was  indeed  Rotil 


216  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

But  a  curious  choking  moan  in  the  corridor  caused  him 
to  turn  quickly,  but  not  quickly  enough. 

Dona  Jocasta,  who  had  been  as  a  reed  of  steel  against 
other  dangers,  had  risen  to  her  feet  as  if  for  flight  at 
sound  of  the  voice,  and  she  crumpled  down  on  the  floor 
and  lay,  white  as  a  dead  woman,  in  a  faint  so  deep  that 
even  her  heartbeat  seemed  stilled. 

Kit  gathered  her  up,  limp  as  a  branch  of  willow,  and 
preceded  by  Tula  with  the  torch,  bore  her  back  to  the 
chamber  prepared  for  her.  Valencia  swept  back  the 
covers  of  the  bed,  and  with  many  mutterings  of  fear 
and  ejaculations  to  the  saints,  proceeded  to  the  work  of 
resuscitation. 

"  To  think  that  she  came  over  that  black  road  and  held 
fast  to  a  heart  of  bravery,  —  and  now  at  a  word  from  the 
Deliverer,  she  falls  dead  in  fear !  So  it  is  with  many  who 
hear  his  name ;  yet  he  is  not  bad  to  his  friends.  Every 
Indian  in  Sonora  is  knowing  that,"  stated  Valencia. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

THE  HAWK  OF  THE  SIERRAS 

1  ''T^  HAT  is  what  we  get,  Tula,  by  gathering  beauty  in 
J.  distress  into  our  outfit,"  sighed  Kit.  "  She  seems 
good  foundation  for  a  civil  war  here.  Helen  of  Troy, — 
a  lady  of  an  eastern  clan !  —  started  a  war  on  less,  and  the 
cards  are  stacked  against  us  if  they  start  scrapping. 
When  Mexican  gentry  begin  hostilities,  the  innocent  by 
stander  gets  the  worst  of  it,  —  especially  the  Americano. 
So  it  is  just  as  well  the  latest  Richard  in  the  field  does 
not  know  whose  bullet  hit  him  in  the  leg,  and  brought  his 
horse  down." 

Tula,  who  since  their  entrance  to  the  civilized  sur 
roundings  of  Mesa  Blanca,  had  apparently  dropped  all 
initiative,  and  was  simply  a  little  Indian  girl  under  orders, 
listened  impassively  to  this  curious  monologue.  She 
evidently  thought  white  people  use  many  words  for  a 
little  meaning. 

"The  Deliverer  says  will  you  graciously  corne?"  she 
stated  for  the  second  time. 

"  Neither  graciously,  gracefully  or  gratefully,  but  I'll 
arrive,"  he  conceded.  "His  politeness  sounds  ominous. 
It  is  puzzling  why  I,  a  mere  trifle  of  an  American  ranch 
hand,  should  be  given  audience  instead  of  his  distin 
guished  lieutenant." 

217 


218 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

"  Isidro  and  Clodomiro  are  talking  much  with  him,  and 
the  man  Marto  is  silent,  needing  no  guard,"  said  Tula. 

"  Sure,  — Rotil  has  the  whole  show  buffaloed.  Well, 
let's  hope,  child,  that  he  is  not  a  mind  reader,  for  we  have 
need  of  all  the  ore  we  brought  out,  and  can't  spare  any  for 
revolutionary  subscriptions." 

Kit  followed  Tula  into  the  sala  where  a  rawhide  cot 
had  been  placed,  and  stretched  on  it  was  the  man  of  Yaqui 
Spring. 

One  leg  of  his  trousers  was  ripped  up,  and  there  was  the 
odor  of  a  greasewood  unguent  in  the  room.  Isidro  was 
beside  him,  winding  a  bandage  below  the  knee.  A  yellow 
silk  banda  around  the  head  of  Rotil  was  stained  with 
red. 

But  he  had  evidently  been  made  comfortable,  for  he 
was  rolling  a  cigarette  and  was  calling  Isidro  "doctor." 
Two  former  vaqueros  of  Mesa  Blanca  were  there,  and 
they  nodded  recognition  to  Kit.  Rotil  regarded  him  with 
a  puzzled  frown,  and  then  remembered,  and  waved  his 
hand  in  salute. 

"Good  day,  sefior,  we  meet  again!"  he  said.  "I  am 
told  that  you  are  my  host  and  the  friend  of  Senor 
Whitely.  What  is  it  you  do  here?  Is  it  now  a  prison,  or 
a  hospital  for  unfortunates  ?  " 

"  Only  a  hospital  for  you,  General,  and  I  trust  a  serv 
iceable  one,"  Kit  hastened  to  assure  him.  "  More  of  com 
fort  might  have  been  yours  had  you  sent  a  courier  to  per 
mit  of  preparation." 

"The  service  is  of  the  best,"  and  Rotil  pointed  to 
Isidro.  "I've  a  mind  to  take  him  along,  old  as  he  is! 
The  boys  told  me  he  was  the  best  medico  this  side  the 


THE  HAWK  OF  THE  SIERRAS  219 

range,  and  I  believe  it.  As  to  courier/'  and  he  grinned, 
"  I  think  you  had  one,  if  you  had  read  the  message  right." 

"  The  surprises  of  the  night  were  confusing,  and  a  sim 
ple  man  could  not  dare  prophesy  what  might  follow,"  said 
Kit,  who  had  drawn  up  a  chair  and  easily  fell  into  Rotil's 
manner  of  jest.  "  But  I  fancy  if  that  courier  had  known 
who  would  follow  after,  he  would  have  spent  the  night  by 
preference  at  Soledad." 

"  Sure  he  would,  —  hell's  fire  shrivel  him !  That  shot  of 
his  scraped  a  bone  for  me,  and  put  my  horse  out  of  busi 
ness.  For  that  reason  we  came  on  quietly,  and  these  good 
fellows  listened  at  the  window  of  Marto  before  they  car 
ried  me  in.  It  is  a  good  joke  on  me.  My  men  rounded 
up  Perez  and  his  German  slaver  at  Soledad  today  — 
yesterday  now !  —  and  when  we  rode  up  the  little  canon 
to  be  in  at  the  finish  what  did  we  see  but  an  escape  with 
a  woman?  Some  word  had  come  my  way  of  a  Perez 
woman  there,  and  only  one  thought  was  with  me,  that 
the  woman  had  helped  Perez  out  of  the  trap  as  quickly 
as  he  had  ridden  into  it !  After  that  there  was  nothing 
to  do  but  catch  them  again.  No  thought  came  to  me  that 
Marto  might  be  stealing  a  woman  for  himself,  the  fool ! 
Perez  made  better  time  than  we  figured  on,  and  is  a  day 
ahead.  Marto  meant  to  hide  the  woman  and  get  back 
in  time.  It's  a  great  joke  that  an  Americano  took  the 
woman  from  him.  I  hope  she  is  worth  the  trouble," 
and  he  smiled,  lifting  his  brows  questioningly. 

"  So  that  was  the  '  trap '  that  Marto  raved  and  stormed 
to  get  back  to?"  remarked  Kit.  "I  am  still  in  the  dark, 
though  there  are  some  glimmers  of  light  coming.  If 
Marto  knew  of  that  trap  it  explains " 


220 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

"There  were  three  others  of  my  men  on  the  Soledad 
rancho,  drawing  pay  from  Perez.  It  is  the  first  time 
that  fox  came  in  when  we  could  spread  the  net  tight.  To 
get  him  at  another  place  would  not  serve  so  well,  for  if 
Soledad  was  the  casket  of  our  treasure,  at  Soledad  we 
make  a  three  strike,  —  the  cattle,  the  ammunition,  and 
Perez  there  to  show  the  hiding  place !  It  is  the  finish  of 
four  months'  trailing,  and  is  worth  the  time,  and  but  for 
Marto  running  loco  over  a  girl,  there  would  have  been  a 
beautiful  quiet  finish  at  Soledad  ranch  house  last  night." 

"But,  if  your  men  have  Perez " 

"Like  that!"  and  Rotil  stretched  out  his  open  hand, 
and  closed  it  significantly,  with  a  cruel  smile  in  his  black, 
swift-glancing  eyes.  "This  time  there  is  no  mistake. 
For  over  a  week  men  and  stout  mules  have  been  going 
in;  —  it  is  a  conducta  and  it  is  to  take  the  ammunition. 
Well,  senor,  it  is  all  well  managed  for  me ;  also  we  have 
much  need  of  that  ammunition  for  our  own  lads." 

"And  it  was  done  without  a  fight?"  asked  Kit.  "I 
have  heard  that  the  men  picked  for  Soledad  were  not 
the  gentlest  band  Senor  Perez  could  gather." 

"  We  had  their  number,"  said  Rotil  placidly.  "  Good 
men  enough,  but  with  their  cartridges  doctored  what 
could  they  do?  I  sent  in  two  machine  guns,  and  they 
were  not  needed.  A  signal  smoke  went  up  to  show  me 
all  was  well,  and  in  another  minute  I  heard  the  horses 
of  Marto  and  his  girl.  He  must  have  started  an  hour 
before  Perez  arrived.  It  is  a  trick  of  Don  Jose's  that 
no  one  can  count  on  his  engagements,  but  this  time  every 
hill  had  its  sentinels  for  his  trail,  not  anything  was  left 
to  chance." 


THE  HAWK  OF  THE  SIERRAS  221 

"And  your  accident?"  asked  Kit  politely. 

"  Oh,  I  was  setting  my  own  guards  at  every  pass  when 
the  runaway  woman  and  men  caught  my  ear  and  we  took 
a  short  cut  down  the  little  canon  to  head  them  off.  I 
knew  they  would  make  for  here,  and  that  houses  were  not 
plenty  — "  he  smiled  as  if  well  satisfied  with  the  knowl 
edge.  "So,  as  this  was  a  friendly  house  it  would  be  a 
safe  bet  to  keep  on  coming."  He  blew  rings  of  smoke 
from  the  cigarette,  and  chuckled. 

"The  boys  will  think  a  quicksand  has  swallowed  us, 
and  no  one  will  be  sleeping  there  at  Soledad." 

"Is  there  anything  I  can  do  to  be  of  service,"  asked 
Kit.  "I  have  a  good  room  and  a  bed " 

But  the  chuckling  of  Rotil  broke  into  a  frank  laugh. 

"  No,  sefior ! "  he  said  with  humorous  decision,  watch 
ing  Kit  as  he  spoke,  "already  I  have  been  told  of  your 
great  kindness  in  the  giving  of  beds  and  rooms  of  com 
fort.  Why,  with  a  house  big  enough,  you  could  jail  all 
the  district  of  Altar !  Not  my  head  for  a  noose ! " 

Kit  laughed  awkwardly  at  the  jest  which  was  based  on 
fact,  but  he  met  the  keen  eyes  of  Rotil  very  squarely. 

"  The  Indians  no  doubt  told  you  the  reason  the  jail  was 
needed?"  he  said.  "If  a  girl  picks  a  man  to  take  a  trail 
with,  that  is  her  own  affair  and  not  mine,  but  if  a  girl 
with  chains  on  her  wrists  has  to  watch  men  throwing  dice 
for  her,  and  is  forced  to  go  with  the  winner  —  well  —  the 
man  who  would  not  help  set  her  free  needs  a  dose  of  lead. 
That  is  our  American  way,  and  no  doubt  is  yours,  senor." 

"  Sure !  Let  a  woman  pick  her  own,  if  she  can  find 
him!"  agreed  Rotil,  and  then  he  grinned  again  as  he 
looked  at  Kit.  "And,  senor,  it  is  a  safe  bet  that  this 


222 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

time  she'll  find  him !  —  you  are  a  good  big  mark,  not  easily 
hidden." 

The  other  men  smiled  and  nodded  at  the  humor  of 
their  chief,  and  regarded  Kit  with  appreciative  sympathy. 
It  was  most  natural  of  course  for  them  to  suppose  that 
if  he  took  a  woman  from  Marto,  he  meant  to  win  her 
for  himself. 

Kit  smiled  back  at  them,  and  shook  his  head. 

"No  such  luck  for  a  poor  vaquero,"  he  confessed. 
"The  lady  is  in  mourning,  and  much  grief.  She  is  like 
some  saint  of  sorrows  in  a  priest's  tale,  and " 

"  The  priests  are  liars,  and  invented  hell,"  stated  Rotil. 

"That  may  be,  but  sometimes  we  see  sad  women  of 
prayers  who  look  like  the  saints  the  priests  tell  about, — 
and  to  have  such  women  sold  by  a  gambler  is  not  good 
to  hear  of." 

No  one  spoke  for  a  little.  The  eyes  of  Rotil  closed 
in  a  curious,  contemptuous  smile. 

"  You  are  young,  boy,"  he  said  at  last,  "  and  even  we 
who  are  not  so  young  are  often  fooled  by  women.  Trust 
any  woman  of  the  camp  rather  than  the  devout  saints 
of  the  shrines.  All  are  for  market, — but  you  pay  most 
for  the  saint,  and  sorrow  longest  for  her.  And  you  never 
forget  that  the  shrine  is  empty!" 

His  tone  was  mocking  and  harsh,  but  Kit  preferred  to 
ignore  the  sudden  change  of  manner  for  which  there 
seemed  no  cause. 

"Thanks  for  the  warning,  General,  and  no  saints  for 
me ! "  he  said  good  naturedly.  "  Now,  is  there  any  prac 
tical  thing  I  can  do  to  add  to  your  comfort  here?  Any 
plans  for  tomorrow?" 


THE  HAWK  OF  THE  SIERRAS  223 

"  A  man  of  mine  is  already  on  the  way  to  Soledad,  and 
we  will  sleep  before  other  plans  are  made.  Not  even 
Marto  will  I  see  tonight,  knowing  well  that  you  have 
seen  to  his  comfort!"  and  he  chuckled  again  at  the 
thought  of  Marto  in  his  luxurious  trap.  "  My  lads  will 
do  guard  duty  in  turn,  and  we  sleep  as  we  are." 

"Then,  if  I  can  be  of  no  service " 

"Tomorrow  perhaps,  not  tonight,  sefior.  Some  sleep 
will  do  us  no  harm. 

"  Then  good  night,  and  good  rest  to  you,  General." 

"Many  thanks,  and  good  night,  Don  Pajarito." 

Kit  laughed  at  that  sally,  and  took  himself  out  of 
the  presence.  It  was  plain  that  the  Deliverer  had  obtained 
only  the  most  favorable  account  of  Kit  as  the  friend  of 
Whitely.  And  as  an  American  lad  who  sang  songs,  and 
protected  even  women  he  did  not  know,  he  could  not  ap 
pear  formidable  to  Rotil's  band,  and  certainly  not  in  need 
of  watching. 

He  looked  back  at  them  as  the  general  turned  on 
his  side  to  sleep,  and  one  of  his  men  blew  out  the  two 
candles,  and  stationed  themselves  outside  the  door.  As 
he  noted  the  care  they  took  in  guarding  him,  and  glanced 
at  the  heavy  doors  and  barred  windows,  he  had  an  un 
comfortable  thrill  at  the  conviction  that  it  would  serve 
as  a  very  efficient  prison  for  himself  if  his  new  friends, 
the  revolutionists,  ever  suspected  he  held  the  secret  of 
the  red  gold  of  El  Alisal.  It  was  a  bit  curious  that  the 
famous  lost  mine  of  the  old  mission  had  never  really  been 
"lost  "at  all! 

Isidro,  looking  very  tired,  had  preceded  him  from 
the  sala,  as  Kit  supposed  to  go  to  bed.  The  day  and  night 


224 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

had  been  trying  to  the  old  man,  and  already  it  was  the 
small  hours  of  a  new  day. 

There  was  a  dim  light  in  the  room  of  Dona  Jocasta, 
but  no  sound.  Tula  was  curled  up  on  a  blanket  outside 
her  door  like  a  young  puppy  on  guard.  He  stooped  and 
touched  her  shoulder. 

"The  sefiora?"  he  whispered. 

"Asleep,  after  tears,  and  a  sad  heart!"  she  replied. 
"Valencia  thanks  the  saints  that  at  last  she  weeps,  —  the 
beautiful  sad  one!" 

"  That  is  well ;  go  you  also  to  sleep.  Your  friends  keep 
guard  tonight." 

She  made  no  reply,  and  he  passed  on  along  the  cor 
ridor  to  his  own  rooms.  The  door  was  open,  and  he  was 
about  to  strike  a  light  when  a  hand  touched  his  arm. 
He  drew  back,  reaching  for  his  gun. 

"What  the  devil " 

"  Senor,"  whispered  Isidro,  "  make  no  light,  and  make 
your  words  in  whispers." 

"All  right.     What's  on  your  mind?" 

"  The  sefiora  and  the  Deliverer.  Know  you  not,  senior, 
that  she  is  sick  with  shame  ?  It  is  so.  No  man  has  told 
him  who  the  woman  is  he  calls  yours.  All  are  afraid, 
senor.  It  is  said  that  once  Ramon  Rotil  was  content 
to  be  a  simple  man  with  a  wife  of  his  own  choosing, 
but  luck  was  not  his.  It  was  the  daughter  of  a  priest  in  the 
hills,  and  Jose  Perez  took  her ! " 

"  Ah-h! "  breathed  Kit.  "  If  it  should  be  this  one " 

"It  is  so,  —  she  went  like  a  dead  woman  at  his  voice, 
but  he  does  not  know.  How  should  he,  when  Don  Jose 
has  women  beyond  count  ?  Senor,  my  Valencia  promised 


THE  HAWK  OF  THE  SIERRAS  225 

Dona  Jocasta  you  would  save  her  from  meeting  the 
general.  That  promise  was  better  than  a  sleeping  drink 
of  herbs  to  her.  Now  that  the  promise  is  made,  how 
will  you  make  it  good  ?  " 

"Holy  smoke — also  incense — also  the  pipe!"  mut 
tered  Kit  in  the  dark.  "  If  I  live  to  get  out  of  this  mud 
dle  I'll  swear  off  all  entangling  alliances  forevermore! 
Come  into  the  kitchen  where  we  can  have  a  fire's  light. 
I  can't  think  in  this  blackness." 

They  made  their  way  to  the  kitchen,  and  started  a  blaze 
with  mesquite  bark.  The  old  Indian  cut  off  some  strips 
of  burro  jerke  and  threw  them  on  the  coals. 

"  That  is  better,  it's  an  occupation  anyway,"  conceded 
Kit  chewing  with  much  relish.  "  Now,  Isidro,  man,  you 
must  go  on.  You  know  the  land  best.  How  is  one  to 
hide  a  woman  of  beauty  from  desert  men?" 

"  She  may  have  a  plan,"  suggested  Isidro. 

"  Where  is  Clodomiro  ?  "  asked  Kit,  suddenly  recalling 
that  the  boy  had  disappeared.  The  old  man  did  not 
answer;  he  was  very  busy  with  the  fire,  and  when  the 
question  was  repeated  he  shook  his  head. 

"  I  do  not  know  who  went.  If  Tula  did  not  go,  then 
Clodomiro  was  the  one.  They  were  talking  about  it." 

"  Talking,  —  about  what  ?  " 

"About  the  German.  He  is  caught  at  Soledad,  and 
must  not  be  let  go,  or  let  die.  All  the  Indians  of  Palomitas 
will  be  asking  the  Deliverer  for  that  man." 

"  Isidro,  what  is  it  they  want  to  do  with  him  ?  "  asked 
Kit,  and  the  old  Indian  ceased  fussing  around  with  a  stick 
in  the  ashes,  and  looked  up,  sinister  and  reproving. 

"That,  senor,  is  a  question  a  man  does  not  ask.     If 


226  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

my  woman  tells  me  the  women  want  a  man  for  Judas, 
I  —  get  that  man!  I  ask  nothing." 

"Good  God!  And  that  child,  Tula  —  "  began  Kit 
in  consternation,  and  old  Isidro  nodded  his  head. 

"  It  is  Tula  who  asked.  She  is  proving  she  is  a  woman ; 
Clodomiro  goes  for  her  because  that  is  his  work.  Your 
white  way  would  be  a  different  way,  —  of  an  alcalde  and 
the  word  of  many  witness.  Our  women  have  their  own 
way,  and  no  mistake  is  made." 

"  But  Rotil,  the  general, — he  will  not  permit " 

"  Sefior,  for  either  mother  or  grandmother  the  general 
had  an  Indian  woman.  He  has  the  knowing  of  these 
things.  I  think  Tula  gets  the  man  they  ask  for.  She  is 
wise,  that  child !  A  good  woman  will  be  chosen  to  have 
speech  with  the  Deliverer  —  when  they  come." 

"There  is  a  thought  in  that,"  mused  Kit,  glancing 
sharply  at  the  old  man.  "  Do  they  make  choice  of  some 
wise  woman,  to  be  speaker  for  the  others?  And  they 
come  here?" 

"  That  is  how  it  is,  senor." 

"  Then,  what  better  way  to  hide  Dona  Jocasta  than  to 
place  her  among  Indian  women  who  come  in  a  band  for 
that  task?  Many  women  veil  and  shroud  their  heads  in 
black  as  she  does.  The  music  of  her  voice  was  dulled 
when  she  spoke  to  Marto,  and  General  Rotil  had  no 
memory  of  having  ever  heard  it.  Think,  —  is  there  to  be 
found  an  old  dress  of  your  wife?  Can  it  be  done  and 
trust  no  one?  Dona  Jocasta  is  clever  when  her  fear  is 
gone.  With  Tula  away  from  that  door  the  rest  is  easy. 
The  dawn  is  not  so  far  off." 

"Dawn  is  the  time  the  women  of  Palomitas  will  take 


THE  HAWK  OF  THE  SIERRAS  227 

the  road/*  decided  Isidro,  "  for  by  the  rising  time  of 
the  sun  the  Deliverer  has  said  that  his  rest  here  is  ended, 
and  he  goes  on  to  Soledad  where  Jose  Perez  will  have  a 
trembling  heart  of  waiting." 

"  Will  they  tell  him  whose  trap  he  is  caught  in  ?  " 

"Who  knows?  The  Deliverer  has  plans  of  his  own 
making.  It  was  not  for  idleness  he  was  out  of  sight 
when  the  trap  was  sprung.  He  sleeps  little,  does  Ramon 
Rotil!" 

In  a  mesquite  tree  by  the  cook  house  chickens  began 
to  crow  a  desultory  warning.  And  Isidro  proceeded  to 
subtract  stealthily  a  skirt  and  shawl  from  wooden  pegs 
set  in  the  adobe  wall  where  Valencia  slept.  She  startled 
him  by  stirring,  and  making  weary  inquiry  as  to  whether 
it  was  the  time. 

"  Not  yet,  my  treasure,  that  fighting  cock  of  Clodomiro 
crows  only  because  of  a  temper,  and  not  for  day.  It  is  I 
will  make  the  fire  and  set  Maria  to  the  grinding.  Go  you 
to  your  sleep." 

Which  Valencia  was  glad  to  do,  while  her  holiday 
wardrobe,  a  purple  skirt  bordered  with  green,  and  a  deeply 
fringed  black  shawl,  was  confiscated  for  the  stranger 
within  their  gates. 

Thrusting  the  bundle  back  of  an  olla  in  the  corridor 
he  touched  Tula  on  the  shoulder. 

"  The  senor  waits  you  in  the  kitchen,"  he  muttered  in 
the  Indian  tongue,  and  she  arose  without  a  word,  and 
went  silent  as  a  snake  along  the  shadowy  way. 

It  took  courage  for  Isidro  to  enter  alone  the  room  of 
Dona  Jocasta,  as  that  was  the  business  of  a  woman. 
But  Kit  had  planned  that,  if  discovered,  the  girl  should 


228 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

apparently  have  no  accomplices.  This  would  protect  Tula 
and  Valencia  should  Rotil  suspect  treachery  if  an  occu 
pant  of  the  house  should  disappear.  It  would  seem  most 
natural  that  a  stolen  woman  would  seek  to  escape  home 
ward  when  not  guarded,  and  that  was  to  serve  as  a  rea 
sonable  theory. 

She  slept  with  occasional  shuddering  sighs,  as  a  child 
after  sobbing  itself  to  sleep.  That  sad  little  sound  gave 
the  old  Indian  confidence  in  his  errand.  It  might  mean 
trouble,  but  she  had  dared  trouble  ere  now.  And  there 
could  not  be  continual  sorrow  for  one  so  beautiful,  and 
this  might  be  the  way  out! 

She  woke  with  a  startled  cry  as  he  shook  her  bed,  but 
it  was  quickly  smothered  as  he  whispered  her  name. 

"It  is  best  you  go  to  pray  in  the  chapel  room,  and 
meet  there  the  women  of  Palomitas.  Others  will  go  to 
pray  for  a  Judas ;  among  many  you  may  be  hidden." 

She  patted  his  arm,  and  arose  in  the  dark,  slipping  on 
her  clothes.  He  gave  her  the  skirt  and  she  donned  that 
over  her  own  dress.  Her  teeth  were  chattering  with 
nervous  excitement,  and  when  she  had  covered  herself 
with  the  great  shawl,  her  hand  Went  out  gropingly  to 
him  to  lead  her. 

As  they  did  not  pass  the  door  of  the  sola,  no  notice  was 
given  them  by  Rotil's  guard.  Mexican  women  were  ever 
at  early  prayers,  or  at  the  metate  grinding  meal  for  break 
fast,  and  that  last  possibility  was  ever  welcome  to  men 
on  a  trail. 

In  the  kitchen  Kit  Rhodes  was  seeking  information 
concerning  Clodomiro  from  Tula,  asking  if  it  was  true  he 
would  fetch  the  women  of  Palomitas  to  petition  Rotil. 


THE  HAWK  OF  THE  SIERRAS  229 

"  Maybe  so,"  she  conceded,  "  but  that  work  is  not  for 
a  mind  of  a  white  man.  Thus  I  am  not  telling  you 
Clodomiro  is  the  one  to  go;  his  father  was  what  you 
call  a  priest,  —  but  not  of  the  church,"  she  said  hastily, 
"  no,  of  other  things." 

Looking  at  her  elfin  young  face  in  the  flickering  light 
of  the  hearth  fire,  he  had  a  realization  of  vast  vistas  of 
"other  things"  leading  backward  in  her  inherited  ten 
dencies,  the  things  known  by  his  young  comrade  but 
not  for  the  mind  of  a  white  man,  —  not  even  for  the  man 
whom  Miguel  had  trusted  with  the  secret  of  El  Alisal. 
Gold  might  occasionally  belong  to  a  very  sacred  shrine, 
but  even  sacred  gold  was  not  held  so  close  in  sanctuary 
as  certain  ceremonies  dear  to  the  Indian  thought.  With 
out  further  words  Kit  Rhodes  knew  that  there  were 
locked  chambers  in  the  brain  of  his  young  partner,  and 
to  no  white  man  would  be  granted  the  key. 

"Well,  since  he  has  gone  for  them,  there  is  nothing 
to  say,  though  the  general  may  be  ill  pleased  at  visitors," 
hazarded  Kit.  "Also  you  and  I  know  why  we  should 
keep  all  the  good  will  coming  our  way,  and  risk  none  of 
it  on  experiments.  Go  you  back  to  your  rest  since  there 
is  not  anything  to  be  done.  Qodomiro  is  at  Palomitas 
by  now,  and  you  may  as  well  sleep  while  the  dawn  is 
coming." 

She  took  the  strip  of  roasted  meat  he  offered  her,  and 
went  back  to  her  blanket  on  the  tiles  at  the  door  of  the 
now  empty  room. 


CHAPTER  XV 

THE  "  JUDAS "   PRAYER  AT  MESA  BLANCA 

1SID"RO  was  right  when  he  said  Ramon  Rotil  slept  but 
little,  for  the  very  edge  of  the  dawn  was  scarce  show 
ing  in  the  east  when  he  opened  his  eyes,  moved  his 
wounded  leg  stiffly,  and  then  lay  there  peering  between 
half -shut  eyelids  at  the  first  tint  of  yellow  in  the  sky. 

"Chappo,"  he  said  curtly,  "look  beyond  through  that 
window.  Is  it  a  band  of  horses  coming  down  the  mesa 
trail,  or  is  it  men  ?  " 

"Neither,  my  General,  it  is  the  women  wlio  are  left 
of  the  rancher ias  of  Palomitas.  They  come  to  do  a 
prayer  service  at  an  old  altar  here.  Once  Mesa  Blanca 
was  a  great  hacienda  with  a  chapel  for  the  peons,  and 
they  like  to  come.  It  is  a  custom." 

"What  saint's  day  is  this?" 

"  I  am  not  wise  enough,  General,  to  remember  all ;  — 
our  women  tell  us." 

"Um! — saint's  day  unknown,  and  all  a  pueblo  on  a 
trail  to  honor  it!  Call  Fidelio." 

There  was  a  whistle,  a  quick  tread,  and  one  of  the  men 
of  Palctmitas  stood  in  the  door. 

"Take  two  men  and  search  every  woman  coming  for 
prayers  —  guns  have  been  carried  under  scrapes" 

"But,  General " 

230 


THE  "JUDAS"  PRAYER  231 

"  Search  every  woman,  —  even  though  your  own 
mother  be  of  them ! " 

"  General,  my  own  mother  is  already  here,  and  on 
her  knees  beyond  there  in  the  altar  room.  They  pray 
for  heart  to  ask  of  you  their  rights  in  Soledad." 

"  That  is  some  joke,  and  it  is  too  early  in  the  morning 
for  jokes  with  me.  I'm  too  empty.  What  have  Palomitas 
women  to  do  with  rights  in  Soledad  ?  " 

"  I  have  not  been  told,"  said  Fidelio  evasively.  "  It  is 
a  woman  matter.  But  as  to  breakfast,  it  is  making,  and 
the  tortillas  already  baking  for  you." 

"  Order  all  ready,  and  a  long  stirrup  for  that  leg,"  said 
the  general,  moving  it  about  experimentally.  "It  is  not 
so  bad,  but  Marto  can  ride  fasting  to  Soledad  for  giving 
it  to  me." 

"But,  my  General,  he  asks " 

"Who  is  he  to  ask?  After  yesterday,  silence  is  best 
for  him.  Take  him  along.  I  will  decide  later  if  he  is  of 
further  use  —  I  may  —  need  —  a  —  man!" 

There  was  something  deliberately  threatening  in  his 
slow  speech,  and  the  guards  exchanged  glances.  With 
out  doubt  there  would  be  executions  at  Soledad ! 

Rotil  got  off  the  cot  awkwardly,  but  disdaining  help 
from  the  guards  hopped  to  a  chair  against  the  wall  be 
tween  the  two  windows. 

Isidro  came  in  with  a  bowl  of  water,  and  a  much  em 
broidered  towel  for  the  use  of  the.  distinguished  guest, 
followed  by  a  vaquero  with  smoking  tortillas,  and  Tula 
with  coffee. 

The  general  eyed  the  ornate  drawnwork  of  the  linen 
with  its  cobweb  fingers,  and  grinned. 


232  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

"  I  am  not  a  bridegroom  this  morning,  muchachita,  and 
need  no  necktie  of  such  fineness  for  my  beauty.  Bring 
a  plainer  thing,  or  none." 

Tula's  eyes  lit  up  with  her  brief  smile  of  approval. 

"  I  am  telling  them  you  are  a  man  and  want  no  child 
things,  my  General,"  she  stated  firmly,  "and  now  it 
proves  itself!  On  the  instant  the  right  thing  comes." 

She  darted  out  the  door,  bumping  into  Rhodes,  and 
without  even  the  customary  "  with  your  permission  "  ran 
past  him  along  the  corridor,  and,  suddenly  cautious,  yet 
bold,  she  lifted  the  latch  of  the  guest  room  where  she 
had  seen  what  looked  to  her  like  wealth  of  towels,  —  and 
felt  sure  Dona  Jocasta  would  not  miss  one  of  the  plainest. 

Stealthy  as  a  cat  she  circled  the  bed,  scarce  daring  to 
glance  at  it  lest  the  lady  wake  and  look  reproach  on  her. 

But  she  stepped  on  some  hard  substance  on  the  rug  by 
the  wooden  bench  where  the  towels  hung,  and  stooping, 
she  picked  it  up,  a  little  wooden  crucifix,  once  broken,  and 
then  banded  with  silver  to  hold  it  solid.  The  silver  was 
beautifully  wrought  and  very  delicate,  surely  the  posses 
sion  of  a  lady,  and  not  a  thing  let  fall  by  chance  from  the 
pocket  of  Valencia. 

Tula  turned  to  lay  it  carefully  on  the  pillow  beside  the. 
senora,  and  then  stared  at  the  vacant  bed. 

Only  an  instant  she  halted  and  thrust  her  hand  under 
the  cover. 

"  Cold,  —  long  time  cold ! "  she  muttered,  and  with  towel 
and  crucifix  she  sped  back  to  the  sala  where  Rotil  was 
joking  concerning  the  compliment  she  paid  him. 

"Don't  make  dandies  of  yourselves  if  you  would  make 
good  with  a  woman,"  he  said.  "  Even  that  little  crane 


THE  "  JUDAS  "  PRAYER  233 

of  a  muchacha  has  brain,  —  and  maybe  heart  for  a  man! 
She  has  boy  sense." 

Kit,  seeing  her  dart  into  the  guest  room,  stood  in  his 
tracks  watching  for  her  to  emerge.  She  gave  him  one 
searching  curious  look  as  she  sped  past,  and  he  realized 
in  a  flash  that  his  glance  should  have  been  elsewhere, 
or  at  least  more  casual. 

She  delivered  the  towel  and  retired,  abashed  and  silent 
at  the  jests  of  the  man  she  regarded  with  awe  as  the  god- 
sent  deliverer  of  her  people.  Once  in  the  corridor  she 
looked  into  Valencia's  room,  then  in  the  kitchen  where 
Valencia  and  Maria  and  other  women  were  hastening 
breakfast,  and  last  she  sought  Clodomiro  at  the  corral. 

"  Where  did  you  take  her,  and  how  ? "  she  demanded, 
and  the  youth,  tired  with  the  endless  rides  and  tasks  of 
two  days  and  nights,  was  surly,  and  looked  his  impatience. 
"  She,  and  she,  and  she !  Always  women ! "  he  grumbled. 
"  Have  I  not  herded  all  of  them  from  over  the  mesa  at 
your  order?  Is  one  making  a  slow  trail,  and  must  I  go 
herding  again?" 

She  did  not  answer,  but  looked  past  him  at  the  horses. 

"Which  did  the  senora  ride  from  Soledad?"  she  in 
quired,  and  Clodomiro  pointed  out  a  mare  of  shining 
black,  and  also  a  dark  bay  ridden  by  Marto. 

"  Trust  him  to  take  the  best  of  the  saddle  herd, "  he 
remarked.  "  Why  have  you  come  about  it  ?  Is  the  senora 
wanting  that  black  ?  " 

"Maybe  so;  I  was  not  told,"  she  answered  evasively. 
"  But  there  is  early  breakfast,  and  it  is  best  to  get  your 
share  before  some  quick  task  is  set,  —  and  this  day  there 
are  many  tasks." 


234  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

The  women  were  entering  the  portal  at  the  rear,  be 
cause  the  chapel  of  the  old  hacienda  was  at  the  corner. 
There  was  considerable  commotion  as  Fidelio  enforced 
the  order  to  search  for  arms ;  —  if  the  Deliverer  suspected 
treachery,  how  could  they  hope  for  the  sympathy  they 
came  to  beg  for  ? 

"Tell  him  there  is  nothing  hidden  under  our  rags  but 
hearts  of  sorrow,"  said  the  mother  of  Fidelio.  "Ask 
that  he  come  here  where  we  kneel  to  give  God  thanks  that 
El  Aleman  is  now  in  the  power  of  the  Deliverer." 

"General  Rotil  does  not  walk,  and  there  is  no  room 
for  a  horse  in  this  door.  Someone  of  you  must  speak 
for  the  others,  and  go  where  he  is." 

The  kneeling  women  looked  at  each  other  with  troubled 
dark  eyes. 

"Valencia  will  be  the  best  one,"  said  an  old  woman. 
"She  lost  no  one  by  the  pale  beast,  but  she  knows  us 
every  one.  Marta,  who  was  wife  of  Miguel,  was  always 
mother  and  spoke  for  us  to  the  padre,  or  anyone,  but 
Marta " 

She  paused  and  shook  her  head;  some  women  wept. 
All  knew  Marta  was  one  who  cried  to  them  for  ven 
geance. 

"  That  is  true,"  said  Valencia.  "  Marta  was  the  best, 
but  the  child  of  Marta  is  here,  and  knows  more  than  we. 
She  has  done  much,  —  more  than  many  women.  I  think 
the  daughter  can  speak  best  for  the  mother,  and  that  the 
Deliverer  will  listen." 

Tula  had  knelt  like  the  others,  facing  a  little  shelf  on 
the  wall  where  a  carven  saint  was  dimly  illuminated  by 
the  light  of  a  candle.  All  the  room  was  very  dark,  for 


THE  "  JUDAS  "  PRAYER  235 

the  dawn  was  yet  but  as  a  gray  cloak  over  the  world,  and 
no  window  let  in  light. 

The  girl  stood  up  and  turned  toward  Valencia. 

"I  will  go,"  she  said,  "because  it  is  my  work  to  go 
when  you  speak,  but  the  Deliverer  will  ask  for  older 
tongues  and  I  will  come  back  to  tell  you  that" 

Without  hesitation  she  walked  out  of  the  door,  and 
the  others  bent  their  heads  and  there  was  tiie  little  click- 
click  of  rosary  beads,  slipping  through  their  fingers  in 
the  dusk.  Among  the  many  black-shawled  huddled  fig 
ures  kneeling  on  the  hard  tiles,  none  noticed  the  one  girl 
in  the  corner  where  shadows  were  deepest,  and  whose 
soft  slender  hands  were  muffled  in  Valencia's  fringes. 

Kit  stood  until  he  noted  that  the  searching  for  arms 
did  not  include  her,  and  then  crossed  the  patio  with 
Fidelio  on  his  way  to  the  corrals.  If  the  black  mare  of 
Dofia  Jocasta  could  be  gotten  to  the  rear  portal,  together 
with  the  few  burros  of  the  older  women,  she  might  fol 
low  after  unnoticed.  The  adobe  wall  at  the  back  was  over 
ten  feet  high  and  would  serve  as  a  shield,  and  the  entire 
cavalcade  would  be  a  half  mile  away  ere  they  came  in 
range  from  the  plaza. 

He  planned  to  manage  that  the  mare  be  there  without 
asking  help  of  any  Indian,  and  he  thought  he  could  do 
it  while  the  guard  was  having  breakfast.  It  would  be 
easy  for  them  to  suppose  that  the  black  was  his  own. 
Thus  scheming  for  beauty  astray  in  the  desert,  he  chatted 
with  Fidelio  concerning  the  pilgrimage  of  the  Palomitas 
women,  and  the  possibility  of  Rotil's  patience  with  them, 
when  Tula  crossed  the  patio  hurriedly  and  entered  the 
door  of  the  sola. 


236 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

The  general  was  finishing  his  breakfast,  while  Isidro 
was  crouched  beside  him  rewinding  the  bandage  after 
a  satisfactory  inspection  of  the  wound.  The  swelling  was 
not  great,  and  Rotil,  eating  cheerfully,  was  congratulat 
ing  himself  on  having  made  a  straight  trail  to  the  physi 
cian  of  Mesa  Blanca;  it  was  worth  a  lost  day  to  have 
the  healing  started  right. 

He  was  in  that  complacent  mood  when  Tula  sped  on 
silent  bare  feet  through  the  sala  portal,  and  halted  just 
inside,  erect  against  the  wall,  gazing  at  him. 

"Hola!  Nina  who  has  the  measure  of  a  man!  The 
coffee  was  of  the  best.  What  errand  is  now  yours?" 

"  Excellency,  it  is  the  errand  too  big  for  me,  yet  I  am 
the  one  sent  with  it.  They  send  me  because  the  mother 
of  me,  and  Anita,  my  sister,  were  in  the  slave  drive  south, 
and  the  German  and  the  Perez  men  carried  whips  and 
beat  the  women  on  that  trail." 

Her  brave  young  heart  seemed  to  creep  up  in  her  throat 
and  choke  her  at  thought  of  those  whips  and  the  women 
who  were  driven,  for  her  voice  trembled  into  silence, 
and  she  stood  there  swallowing,  her  head  bent,  and  her 
hands  crossed  over  her  breast,  and  clasped  firmly  there 
was  the  crucifix  she  had  found  in  the  guest  room.  Little 
pagan  that  she  was,  she  regarded  it  entirely  as  a  fetish  of 
much  potency  with  white  people,  and  surely  she  needed 
help  of  all  gods  when  she  spoke  for  the  whole  pueblo  to 
this  man  who  had  power  over  many  lives. 

Rotil  stared  at  her,  frowning  and  bewildered. 

"  What  the  devil,  —  "be  began,  .but  Isidro  looked  up  at 
him  and  nodded  assent. 

"  It  is  a  truth  she  is  telling,  Excellency.     Her  father 


THE  "  JUDAS  "  PRAYER  237 

was  Miguel,  once  major-domo  of  this  rancho.  He  died 
from  their  fight,  and  his  women  were  taken." 

"Oh,  yes,  that!  —  it  happens  in  many  states.  But  this 
German  —  who  says  the  German  and  Perez  were  the 
men  to  do  it?" 

"I,  Tula,  child  of  Miguel,  say  it,"  stated  the  girl. 
"With  my  eyes  I  saw  him,  —  with  my  ears  I  heard  the 
sister  call  out  his  name.  The  name  was  Don  Adolf. 
Over  his  face  was  tied  a  long  beard,  so !  But  it  was  the 
man,  —  the  friend  of  Don  Jose  Perez  of  Soledad;  all  are 
knowing  that.  He  is  now  your  man,  and  the  women  ask 
for  him." 

"What  women?" 

"All  the  women  of  Palomitas.  On  their  knees  in  the 
chapel  they  make  prayers.  Excellency,  it  robs  you  of 
nothing  that  you  give  them  a  Judas  for  Holy  Week.  I 
am  sent  to  ask  that  of  the  Deliverer." 

She  slid  down  to  her  knees  on  the  tiles,  and  looked  up 
at  him. 

He  stared  at  her,  frowning  and  eyeing  her  intently, 
then  chuckled,  and  grinned  at  the  others. 

"  Did  I  not  tell  you  she  had  the  heart  of  a  boy?  And 
now  you  see  it !  Get  up  off  your  knees,  chiquita.  Why 
should  you  want  a  Judas  ?  It  is  a  sweetheart  I  must  find 
for  you  instead." 

"  I  am  not  getting  up,"  said  Tula  stolidly.  "  I  am  kneel 
ing  before  you,  my  General.  See !  I  pray  to  you  on  the 
tiles  for  that  Judas.  All  the  women  are  praying.  Also 
the  old  women  have  made  medicine  to  send  El  Aleman 
once  more  on  this  trail,  and  see  you,  —  it  has  come  to  pass ! 
You  have  him  in  your  trap,  but  he  \s  ours.  Excellency, 


238 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

come  once  and  see  all  the  women  on  their  knees  before 
the  saint  as  I  am  here  by  you.  We  make  prayers  for 
one  thing:  —  the  Judas  for  our  holy  day!" 

"You  young  devil!"  he  grinned.  "I  wish  you  were 
a  boy.  Here,  you  men  help  me,  or  get  me  a  crutch.  I 
will  see  these  women  on  their  knees,  and  if  you  don't 
lie " 

With  the  help  of  Fidelio  and  a  cane,  he  started  very 
well,  and  nodded  to  Kit. 

"  You  pick  well,  amigo,"  he  observed.  "  She  is  a  wild 
cat,  and  of  interest.  Come  you  and  see.  For  Dios! 
I've  seen  a  crucifixion  of  the  Penitentes  and  helped  dig 
the  hidden  grave.  Also  I  have  heard  of  the  'Judas' 
death  on  Holy  Friday,  but  never  before  this  has  so  young 
a  woman  creature  picked  a  man  for  it,  —  a  man  alive! 
Courage  of  the  devil!" 

Tula  arose,  and  went  before  them  across  the  plaza  to 
the  door  of  the  chapel.  Kit  knew  this  was  the  right  mo 
ment  for  him  to  disappear  and  get  the  black  mare  back 
of  the  wall,  but  Rotil  kept  chuckling  to  him  over  the 
ungirlish  request,  and  so  pointedly  included  him  in  the 
party  that  there  seemed  no  excuse  available  for  absenting 
himself. 

A  flush  of  rose  swept  upward  to  the  zenith  heralding 
the  sun,  but  in  the  adobe  room,  with  its  door  to  the  west, 
no  light  came,  except  by  dim  reflection,  and  as  Tula  en 
tered  and  the  men  stood  at  the  threshold,  they  blocked 
the  doorway  of  even  that  reflection,  and  the  candle  at  the 
saint's  shrine  shone  dimly  over  the  bent  heads  of  the 
kneeling  women. 

Rotil  stood  looking  about  questioningly ;  he  had  not 


THE  "  JUDAS  "  PRAYER  239 

expected  to  see  so  many.  Then  at  the  sound  of  the  click 
of  the  prayer  beads,  some  recollection  of  some  past  caused 
him  to  automatically  remove  his  wide-brimmed  hat. 

"Mothers,"  said  Tula  quietly,  "the  Deliverer  has 
come." 

There  was  a  half- frightened  gasp,  and  dark  faces 
turned  toward  the  door. 

"  He  comes  as  I  told  you,  because  I  am  no  one  by  my 
self,  and  he  could  not  know  I  was  sent  by  you.  I  am 
not  anyone  among  people,  and  he  does  not  believe.  Only 
people  of  importance  should  speak  with  a  soldier  who 
is  a  general." 

"  No,  por  Dios,  my  boy,  you  speak  well ! "  said  Rotil, 
clapping  his  hand  on  her  shoulder,  "but  your  years  are 
not  many  and  it  cannot  be  you  know  the  thing  you  ask 
for." 

"  I  know  it,"  asserted  Tula  with  finality. 

An  old  woman  got  up  stiffly,  and  came  towards  him. 
"We  are  very  poor,  yet  even  our  children  are  robbed 
from  us  —  that  is  why  we  pray.  Don  Ramon,  your 
mother  was  simple  as  we,  and  had  heart  for  the  poor. 
Our  lives  are  wasted  for  the  masters,  and  our  women 
children  are  stolen  for  the  sons  of  masters.  That  is  done, 
and  we  wish  they  may  find  ways  to  kill  themselves  on 
the  trail.  But  the  man  who  drove  them  with  whips  is 
now  your  man  —  and  we  mothers  ask  him  of  you." 

The  wizened  old  creature  trembled  as  she  spoke,  and 
scarce  lifted  her  eyes.  She  made  effort  to  speak  further, 
but  words  failed,  and  she  slipped  to  her  knees  and  the 
beads  slid  from  her  nervous  fingers  to  the  tiles.  She  was 
very  old,  and  she  had  come  fasting  across  the  mesa  in 


240  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

the  chill  before  the  dawn;  her  two  grandchildren  had 
been  driven  south  with  the  slaves  —  one  had  been  a  bride 
but  a  month  —  and  they  killed  her  man  as  they  took 
her. 

Valencia  came  to  her  and  wiped  the  tears  from  her 
cheeks,  patting  her  on  the  back  as  one  would  soothe  a 
child,  and  then  she  looked  at  Rotil,  nodding  her  head 
meaningly,  and  spoke. 

"It  is  all  true  as  Tia  Tomasa  is  saying,  sefior.  Her 
children  are  gone,  and  this  child  of  Capitan  Miguel 
knows  well  what  she  asks  for.  The  days  of  the  sorrows 
of  Jesus  are  coming  soon,  and  the  Judas  we  want  for 
that  day  of  the  days  will  not  be  made  of  straw  to  be 
bound  on  the  wild  bull's  back,  and  hung  when  the  ride 
is  over.  No,  senor,  we  know  the  Judas  asked  of  you 
by  this  daughter  of  Miguel;  —  it  is  the  pale  beast  called 
El  Aleman.  For  many,  many  days  have  we  made  prayers 
like  this,  before  every  shrine,  that  the  saints  would  send 
him  again  to  our  valley.  You,  senor,  have  brought  an 
swer  to  that  prayer.  You  have  him  trapped,  but  he 
belongs  only  to  us  women.  The  saints  listened  to  us, 
and  you  are  in  it.  Men  often  are  in  prayers  like  that,  and 
have  no  knowing  of  it,  senor." 

Kit  listened  in  amazement  to  this  account  of  prayers 
to  Mexican  saints  for  a  Judas  to  hang  on  Good  Friday! 
After  four  centuries  of  foreign  priesthood,  and  foreign 
saints  on  the  shrines,  the  mental  effect  on  the  aborigines 
had  not  risen  above  crucifixion  occasionally  on  some 
proxy  for  their  supreme  earthly  god,  or  mad  orgies  of 
vengeance  on  a  proxy  for  Judas.  The  great  drama  of 
Calvary  had  taught  them  only  new  forms  of  torture  and 


THE  "  JUDAS  "  PRAYER  241 

the  certainty  that  vengeance  was  a  debt  to  be  paid.  Con 
rad  was  to  them  the  pale  beast  whipping  women  into 
slavery,  —  and  as  supreme  traitor  to  human  things  must 
be  given  a  Judas  death! 

He  shivered  as  he  listened,  and  looked  at  the  eyes  of 
women  staring  out  of  the  dusk  for  the  answer  to  their 
prayers. 

"For  Dios!"  muttered  Rotil,  half  turning  to  Kit,  yet 
losing  nothing  of  the  pleading  strained  faces.  "Does 
your  head  catch  all  of  that,  senor?  Can't  women  beat 
hell  ?  And  women  breed  us  all !  What's  the  answer  ?  " 

"  In  this  case  it's  up  to  you,  General,"  replied  Kit. 
"I'm  glad  the  responsibility  is  not  mine.  Even  as  it  is, 
\vorjien  who  look  like  these  are  likely  to  walk  through  my 
dreams  for  many  a  night!" 

Rotil  gloomed  at  them,  puzzled,  frowning,  and  at  times 
the  flicker  of  a  doubtful  smile  would  change  his  face 
without  lighting  it.  No  one  moved  or  spoke. 

"Here!"  he  said  at  last,  "this  child  and  two  women 
have  spoken,  but  there  are  over  twenty  of  you  here. 
Three  out  of  twenty  is  no  vote  —  hold  up  your  hands. 
Come,  don't  hang  back,  or  you  won't  get  Judas !  There 
are  no  priests  here,  and  no  spies  for  priests,  and  there 
have  been  words  enough.  Show  your  hands ! " 

Kit  looked  back  into  the  darkest  corner,  wondering 
what  the  vote  of  Jocasta  would  be ;  her  mother  was  said 
to  be  Indian,  or  half  Indian,  and  her  hatred  of  the  Ger 
man  would  help  her  understand  these  darker  tribal  sisters. 

But  in  the  many  lifted  hands  her  own  could  not  be  seen 
•  and  he  felt  curiously  relieved,  though  it  was  no  affair 
Oi  his,  and  one  vote  either  way  would  weigh  nothing. 


242  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

Rotil  looked  at  the  lifted  hands,  and  grunted. 

"You  win,  muchacha,"  he  said  to  Tula.  "I  think 
you're  the  devil,  and  it's  you  made  the  women  talk.  You 
can  come  along  to  Soledad  and  fetch  their  Judas  back  to 
them." 

"  My  thanks  to  you,  and  my  service,  Excellency,"  said 
Tula.  "  I  will  go  and  be  glad  that  I  go  for  that.  But  I 
swear  by  the  Body  and  Blood,  and  I  swear  on  this, 
that  I  only  pay  the  debt  of  my  people  to  El  Aleman." 

She  was  helping  old  Tia  Tomasa  to  her  feet  with  one 
hand,  and  held  up  the  little  crucifix  to  him  with  the  other. 
She  had  noted  that  white  people  make  oath  on  a  cross 
when  they  want  to  be  believed,  and  she  wished  with  all 
her  pagan  heart  to  be  believed  by  this  man  who  ,had 
been  a  sort  of  legendary  hero  to  her  many  months  before 
she  had  seen  his  face,  or  dared  hope  he  would  ever  grant 
favor  to  her — Tula! 

But  whatever  effect  she  hoped  to  secure  by  emphasizing 
her  oath  on  the  Christian  symbol,  she  was  not  prepared 
for  the  rough  grasp  on  her  arm,  or  the  harsh  command 
of  his  voice. 

"Holy  God!"  he  growled,  "why  do  you  thrust  that 
in  my  face,  —  you?" 

"Excellency  —  I  — "  began  Tula,  but  he  shook  her 
as  a  cat  would  shake  a  mouse. 

"  Answer  me !    How  comes  it  in  your  hands  ?  " 

"  I  found  it,  senor  —  and  did  no  harm." 

"When?    Where?" 

"Why— I  — I " 

A  note  of  warning  flashed  from  some  wireless  across 
the  girl's  mind,  for  it  was  no  little  thing  by  which  Ramon 


THE  "JUDAS"  PRAYER  243 

Rotil  had  suddenly  become  a  growling  tiger  with  his 
hand  near  her  throat. 

"Where?"  he  repeated. 

"On  a  trail,  sefior." 

"When?" 

"Three  days  ago." 

"Where?" 

"At  the  place  where  the  Soledad  trail  leaves  that  of 
Mesa  Blanca." 

Rotil  stared  at  her,  and  then  turned  to  Kit. 

"Do  you  know  of  this  thing?" 

"  No,  General,  I  don't,"  he  said  honestly  enough,  "  but 
these  women  have  many  such 

"No,"  contradicted  Rotil,  "they  haven't,  —  there's  a 
difference." 

He  had  seized  the  crucifix  and  held  it,  while  he  scanned 
the  faces,  and  then  brought  his  gaze  back  to  Tula. 

"You  will  show  me  that  place,  and  prove  yourself, 
muchacha/'  he  said  grimly.  "There's  something — 
something —  Do  you  know,  you  damned  young  crane, 
that  I  can  have  my  men  shoot  you  against  the  wall  out 
there  if  you  lie  to  me?" 

"Yes,  my  General,  but  it  is  better  to  give  lead  to 
enemies  —  and  not  friends.  Also  a  knife  is  cheaper." 

"  Silence !  or  you  may  get  both ! "  he  growled.  "  Here, 
look  well  —  you  —  all  of  you!  Have  any  of  you  but  this 
creature  seen  it?" 

He  held  it  out,  and  Valencia,  who  was  nearest,  caught 
sight  of  it. 

"Ai!  Tula!"  she  said  in  reproof,  "you  to  take  that 
when  the  poor " 


244 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

Tula  flashed  one  killing  look  at  her,  and  Valencia 
stopped  dead,  and  turned  an  ashen  gray,  and  Rotil 
watching ! 

"Ah  —  ha!  I  thought  it!"  he  jeered.  "Now  whose 
trick  is  it  to  make  me  a  fool?  Come,  sift  this  thing! 
You,"  to  Valencia,  "  have  looked  on  this  before.  Whose 
is  it?" 

"Senor  —  I " 

"  So ! "  he  said  with  a  sort  of  growl  in  the  voice,  "  some 
thing  chokes  you  ?  Look  at  me,  not  at  the  others !  Also 
listen :  —  if  a  lie  is  told  to  me,  every  liar  here  will  go  before 
a  firing  squad.  Whose  is  this  crucifix?" 

Valencia's  eyes  looked  sorrow  on  Tula,  still  under  his 
hand,  and  then  on  the  wood  and  silver  thing  held  up  be 
fore  her.  The  sun  was  just  rolling  hot  and  red  above 
the  mountains,  and  Rotil's  shaggy  head  was  outlined  in  a 
sort  of  curious  radiance  as  the  light  struck  the  white 
wall  across  the  patio  at  his  back.  Even  the  silver  of  the 
crucifix  caught  a  glimmer  of  it,  and  to  Valencia  he 
looked  like  the  warrior  padres  of  whom  her  grandmother 
used  to  tell,  who  would  thunder  hell's  terrors  on  the 
frightened  neophytes  until  the  bravest  would  grovel  in 
the  dust  and  do  penances  unbelievable. 

That  commanding  picture  came  between  her  and 
Rotil,  —  the  outlaw  and  soldier  and  patriot.  She  stum 
bled  forward  with  a  pleading  gesture  towards  Tula. 

"  Excellency,  the  child  does  no  harm.  She  is  a  stranger 
in  the  house.  She  has  picked  it  up  perhaps  when  lost  by 
the  senora,  and 

"Whatsenora?" 

"  She  who  is  most  sorrowful  guest  here,  Excellency, 


THE  "  JUDAS  "  PRAYER  245 

and  her  arms  still  bruised  from  the  iron  chains  of  El 
Aleman." 

"And  her  name?" 

"Excellency,  it  is  the  woman  saved  from  your  man 
by  the  Americano  sefior  here  beside  you.  And,  —  she 
asked  to  be  nameless  while  sheltered  at  Mesa  Blanca." 

"  But  not  to  me !  So  this  is  a  game  between  you 
two  — "  and  he  looked  from  Tula  to  Kit  with  sinister 
threat  in  his  eyes,  "it  is  then  your  woman  who " 

"Ramon  —  no!"  said  a  voice  from  the  far  shadows, 
and  the  black  shawled  figure  stood  erect  and  cast  off  the 
muffling  disguise.  Her  pale  face  shone  like  a  star  above 
all  the  kneeling  Indians. 

"  God  of  heaven ! "  he  muttered,  and  his  hand  fell  from 
the  shoulder  of  Tula.  "  You  —  you  are  one  of  the  women 
who  knelt  here  for  vengeance  ?  " 

"For  justice,"  she  said,  "but  I  was  here  for  a  reason 
different ;  —  it  was  a  place  to  hide.  No  one  helped  me,  let 
the  child  go !  Give  these  women  what  they  ask  or  deny 
them,  but  send  them  away.  To  them  I  am  nameless  and 
unknown.  You  can  see  that  even  my  presence  is  a  thing 
of  fear  to  them,  —  let  them  go!" 

He  stared  at  her  across  those  frightened  dark  faces.  It 
was  true  they  drew  away  from  her  in  terror ;  her  sudden 
uprising  was  as  if  she  had  materialized  from  the  cold 
tiles  of  the  chapel  floor.  Kit  noted  that  their  startled 
eyes  were  wide  with  awe,  and  knew  that  they  also  felt 
they  were  gazing  on  a  beauty  akin  to  that  of  the  pictured 
saints.  Even  the  glimmer  of  the  candle  touching  her 
perfect  cheek  and  brow  added  to  the  unearthly  appearance 
there  in  the  shadows. 


246 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

But  Ramon  Rotil  gazed  at  her  across  a  wider  space 
than  that  marked  by  the  kneeling  Indian  women !  Four 
years  were  bridged  by  that  look,  and  where  the  others  saw 
a  pale  Madonna,  he  saw  a  barefooted  child  weaving 
flowers  of  the  mountain  for  a  shrine  where  poverty  pre 
vented  a  candle. 

He  had  sold  maize  to  buy  candles,  and  shoes  for  her 
feet,  and  she  had  given  him  the  little  brown  wooden 
crucifix. 

Once  in  the  height  of  her  reign  of  beauty  in  the 
hacienda  of  Perez,  a  ragged  brown  boy  from  the  hills 
had  lain  in  wait  for  her  under  the  oleanders,  and  thrust 
a  tightly  bound  package  of  corn  husks  into  her  hand,  and 
her  maid  regarded  with  amazement  the  broken  fragments 
of  a  wooden  cross  so  poor  and  cheap  that  even  the  most 
poverty  stricken  of  the  peons  could  own  one,  and  her 
wonder  was  great  that  her  mistress  wept  over  the  broken 
pieces  and  strove  to  fit  them  together  again. 

And  now  it  lay  in  his  hand,  bound  and  framed  in  silver 
wires  delicately  wrought. 

He  had  traveled  farther  than  she  during  the  years  be 
tween,  and  the  memento  of  the  past  made  him  know  it. 

"  Ramon,  let  them  go ! "  she  repeated  with  gentle  ap 
peal. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  taking  a  deep  breath  as  if  rousing  from 
a  trance,  "  that  is  best.  Child  —  see  to  it,  and  have  your 
way.  Senor,  will  you  arrange  that  the  senora  has  what 
comfort  there  is  here?  Our  horses  wait,  and  work 
waits " 

He  saw  Valencia  go  with  protecting,  outstretched 
hands  to  Jocasta,  and  turned  away. 


THE  "  JUDAS  "  PRAYER 247 

Jocasta  never  moved.  To  save  her  friends  from  his 
rage  she  had  spoken,  and  to  her  the  big  moment  of 
humiliation  dreamed  of  and  feared  had  come  and  been 
lived  through.  He  had  seen  her  on  her  knees  among 
all  that  brown  herd  made  up  of  such  women  as  his  mother 
and  her  mother  had  been.  From  mistress  of  a  palace  on 
an  estate  large  as  many  European  kingdoms  she  had  be 
come  an  outcast  with  marks  of  fetters  on  her  arms,  while 
he  was  knelt  to  as  a  god  by  the  simple  people  of  the 
ranges,  and  held  power  of  life  and  death  over  a  wide 
land! 

Kit  could  not  even  guess  at  all  the  tempestuous  back 
ground  of  the  drama  enacted  there  in  the  chill  of  the 
chapel  at  sunrise,  but  the  clash  of  those  two  outlaw  souls 
suddenly  on  guard  before  each  other,  thrilled  him  by  the 
unexpected.  Rotil,  profane,  ruthless,  and  jeering,  had 
suddenly  grown  still  before  the  face  of  a  woman  from 
whom  he  turned  away. 

"  Late !  An  hour  late ! "  he  grumbled,  hobbling  back  to 
the  plaza.  "What  did  I  tell  you?  Hell  of  women! 
Well,  your  damned  little  crane  got  what  she  started  after 
—  huh!  Why  did  she  lie?" 

"  Well,  you  know,  General,"  said  Kit  doubtfully,  "  that 
the  enmity  between  you  and  Jose  Perez  is  no  secret.  Even 
the  children  talk  of  it,  and  wish  success  to  you —  I've 
heard  that  one  do  it!  Dona  Jocasta  is  of  a  Perez  house 
hold,  so  it  was  supposed  you  would  make  prisoner 
anyone  of  their  group.  And  Tula  —  well,  I  reckon  Tula 
listened  last  night  to  some  rather  hard  things  the  senora 
has  lived  through  at  Soledad,  and  knew  she  would  rather 
die  here  than  go  back  there." 


248 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

Kit  realized  he  was  on  delicate  ground  when  trying 
to  explain  any  of  the  actions  of  any  of  the  black  and 
tan  group  to  each  other,  but  he  sought  the  safest  way  out, 
and  drew  a  breath  of  relief  at  his  success,  for  Rotil  lis 
tened  closely,  nodding  assent,  yet  frowning  in  some  per 
plexity. 

"Um!  what  does  that  mean,  —  rather  die  than  go 
back?"  he  demanded.  "No  one  has  told  me  why  the 
lady  has  come  to  Mesa  Blanca,  or  what  she  is  doing 
here.  I  don't  see —  What  the  devil  ails  you?" 

For  Kit  stared  at  him  incredulous,  and  whistled  softly. 

"  Haven't  you  got  it  yet?  "  he  asked.  "  Last  night  you 
joked  about  a  girl  Marto  stole,  and  we  stole  from  him 
again.  Don't  you  realize  now  who  that  girl  is  ?  " 

"focastat" 

It  was  the  first  time  he  had  uttered  her  name  and  there 
was  a  low  terrible  note  in  his  voice,  half  choked  by 
smothered  rage. 

"  But  how  could  Marto,  —  or  why  should  —  "  he  began 
and  then  halted,  checked  by  various  conflicting  facts,  and 
stared  frowningly  at  Rhodes  who  again  strove  to  explain 
that  of  which  he  had  little  knowledge. 

"  General,  I  reckon  Marto  was  square  to  your  interests 
about  everything  but  the  woman  Perez  and  Conrad  sent 
north  into  the  desert,  and  it  was  Marto's  job  to  see  that 
she  never  left  it  alive.  Evidently  he  did  not  report  that 
extra  task  to  you,  for  he  meant  to  save  the  woman  for 
himself.  But  even  at  that,  General,  you've  got  to  give 
him  credit.  He  says  she  bewitched  him,  and  he  couldn't 
kill  her,  and  he  wouldn't  let  the  others  have  her.  Also 
he  risked  a  whale  of  a  beating  up,  and  some  lead  sou- 


THE  "  JUDAS  "  PRAYER  249 

venirs,  in  trying  to  save  her,  even  if  it  was  for  himself. 
So  you  see,  Marto  was  only  extra  human,  and  is  a  good 
man.  His  heart's  about  broke  to  think  he  failed  you,  and 
I'll  bet  he  wouldn't  fail  you  again  in  a  thousand  years ! " 

"  Yes,  you  have  the  right  of  that,"  agreed  Rotil.  "  I 
did  not  know;  I  don't  know  yet  what  this  means  about 
Perez  and  —  and " 

"None  of  us  do,  General,"  stated  Kit.  "I  heard 
Valencia  say  it  must  be  something  only  a  confessor  could 
know,  —  but  it  must  be  rather  awful  at  that!  She  was 
started  north  like  an  insane  criminal,  hidden  and  in  chains. 
She  explains  nothing,  but  General,  you  have  now  the  two 
men  at  Soledad  who  made  the  plan,  and  you  have  here 
Marto  who  was  their  tool  —  and  perhaps  —  at  Soledad 
— "  he  paused  questioning. 

"  Sure !  that  is  what  will  be  done,"  decided  Rotil.  "  See 
to  it,  you,  after  we  are  gone.  Bring  Dona  Jocasta  to 
Soledad  with  as  much  show  of  respect  as  can  be  mus 
tered  in  a  poor  land,  your  girl  and  Isidro's  wife  to  go 
along,  and  any  comforts  you  can  find.  Yes,  that  is  the 
best!  Some  way  we  will  get  to  the  bottom  of  this  well. 
She  must  know  a  lot  if  they  did  not  dare  let  her  live,  and 
Marto  —  well,  you  make  a  good  talk  for  him,  straight 
too  —  Marto  will  go  with  me.  Tell  no  one  anything. 
Make  your  own  plans.  By  sunset  I  will  have  time  for 
this  mystery  of  the  chains  of  Dona  Jocasta.  Be  there  at 
Soledad  by  sunset." 

"At  your  command,  General." 

Then  Chappo  and  Fidelio  helped  their  leader  into  the 
saddle.  Marto,  crestfallen  and  silently  anticipating  the 
worst,  was  led  out  next ;  a  reata  passed  around  the  saddle 


250 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

horn  and  circling  his  waist  was  fastened  back  of  the 
saddle.  His  hands  were  free  to  guide  his  horse,  but 
Chappo,  with  a  wicked  looking  gun  and  three  full  car 
tridge  belts,  rode  a  few  paces  back  of  him  to  see  that  he 
made  no  forbidden  use  of  them. 

Kit  watched  them  ride  east  while  the  long  line  of 
women  of  Palomitas  took  up  the  trail  over  the  mesa  to 
the  north.  Their  high  notes  of  a  song  came  back  to 
him,  —  one  of  those  wailing  chants  of  a  score  of  verses 
dear  to  the  Mexican  heart.  In  any  other  place  he  would 
have  deemed  it  a  funeral  dirge  with  variations,  but  with 
Indian  women  at  sunrise  it  meant  tuneful  content. 

Kit  listened  with  a  shiver.  Because  of  his  own  vagrant 
airs  they  had  called  him  "  El  Pajarito "  when  he  first 
drifted  south  over  Mexican  trails,  —  but  happy  erratic 
tunefulness  was  smothered  for  him  temporarily.  Over 
the  vast  land  of  riches,  smiling  in  the  sun,  there  brooded 
the  threats  of  Indian  gods  chained,  inarticulate,  reaching 
out  in  unexpected  ways  for  expression  through  the  dusky 
devotees  at  hidden  shrines.  The  fact  that  occasionally 
they  found  expression  through  some  perverted  fragment 
from  an  imported  cult  was  a  gruesome  joke  on  the  im 
porters.  But  under  the  eagle  of  Mexico,  whose  wide 
wings  were  used  as  shield  by  the  German  vultures  across 
seas,  jokes  were  not  popular.  German  educators  and 
foreign  priests  with  Austrian  affiliations,  saw  to  that. 
The  spiritual  harvest  in  Mexico  was  not  always  what  the 
planters  anticipated,  —  for  curious  crops  sprung  up  in 
wild  corners  of  the  land,  as  Indian  grains  wrapped  in  a 
mummy's  robe  spring  to  life  under  methods  of  alien  cul- 
turists. 


THE  "  JUDAS  "  PRAYER 251 

Vague  drifting  thoughts  like  this  followed  Kit's  shiver 
of  repulsion  at  that  Indian  joy  song  over  the  promise  of  a 
veritable  live  Judas.  On  him  they  could  wreak  a  per 
sonal  vengeance,  and  go  honestly  to  confession  in  some 
future  day,  with  the  conviction  that  they  had,  by  the 
sufferings  they  could  individually  and  collectively  invent 
for  Judas,  in  some  vague  but  laudable  manner  mitigated 
the  sufferings  of  a  white  god  far  away  whose  tribulations 
were  dwelt  upon  much  by  the  foreign  priesthood. 

He  sensed  this  without  analysis,  for  his  was  not  the 
analytical  mind.  What  brain  Kit  had  was  fairly  well  oc 
cupied  by  the  fact  that  his  own  devoted  partner  was  the 
moving  spirit  of  that  damnable  pagan  Come,  all  ye  — 
drifting  back  to  him  from  the  glorified  mesa,  flushed 
golden  now  by  the  full  sun. 

Clodomiro  came  wearily  up  from  the  corral.  The  boy 
had  gone  without  sleep  or  rest  until  his  eyes  were  heavy 
and  his  movements  listless.  Like  the  women  of  Palomitas 
he  also  had  worked  overtime  at  the  call  of  Tula,  and  Kit 
wondered  at  the  concerted  activity  —  no  one  had  held 
back  or  blundered. 

"Clodomiro,"  he  said  passing  the  lad  a  cigarette  and 
rolling  one  for  himself  from  good  new  tobacco  secured 
from  Fidelio,  "  how  comes  it  that  even  the  women  of 
years  come  in  the  night  for  prayers  when  you  ride  for 
them  ?  Do  they  give  heed  to  any  boy  who  calls  ?  " 

Clodomiro  gave  thanks  for  the  cigarette,  but  was  too 
well  bred  to  light  it  in  the  presence  of  an  elder  or  a 
superior.  He  smelled  it  with  pleasure,  thrust  it  over  his 
ear  and  regarded  Rhodes  with  perfectly  friendly  and 
apparently  sleepy  black  eyes. 


252  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

"Not  always,  senor,  but  when  Tula  sends  the  call  of 
Miguel,  all  are  surely  coming,  and  also  making  the 
prayer." 

"The  call  of  Miguel?     Why  — Miguel  is  dead." 

"  That  is  true,  senor,  but  he  was  head  man,  and  he  had 
words  of  power,  also  the  old  Indians  listened.  Now  Tula 
has  the  words,  and  as  you  see,  —  the  words  are  still  alive ! 
I  am  not  knowing  what  they  mean,  —  the  words,  —  but 
when  Tula  tells  me,  I  take  them." 

ff  0  Tippecanoe,  and  Tyler  too!"  hummed  Kit  study 
ing  the  boy.  "What's  in  a  word?  Do  you  mean  that 
you  take  a  trail  to  carry  words  you  don't  understand, 
because  a  girl  younger  than  you  tells  you  to  ?  " 

The  boy  nodded  indifferently. 

"Yes,  senor,  it  is  my  work  when  it  is  words  of  old 
prayer,  and  Tula  is  sending  them.  It  would  be  bad  not  to 
go,  a  quicksand  would  surely  catch  my  horse,  or  I  might 
die  from  the  bite  of  a  sorrilla  rabioso,  or  evil  ghosts 
might  lure  me  into  wide  medanos  where  I  would  seek 
trails  forever,  and  find  only  my  own!  Words  can  do 
that  on  a  man !  and  Tula  has  the  words  now." 

"  Indeed !  That's  a  comfortable  chum  to  have  around 
—  not!  And  have  you  no  fear?" 

"Not  so  much.  I  am  very  good,"  stated  Clodomiro 
virtuously.  "Some  day  maybe  I  take  her  for  my  wo 
man; —  her  clan  talks  about  it  now.  She  has  almost 
enough  age,  and  —  you  see ! " 

He  directed  the  attention  of  Rhodes  to  the  strips  of  red 
and  green  and  pink  calico  banding  his  arms,  their  flutter 
ing  ends  very  decorative  when  he  moved  swiftly. 

"Oh,  yes,  I've  been  admiring  them.     Very  pretty," 


THE  "  JUDAS  "  PRAYER 253 

said  Kit  amicably,  not  knowing  the  significance  of  it,  but 
conscious  of  the  wide  range  one  might  cover  in  a  few 
minutes  of  simple  Sonora  ranch  life.  From  the  tragic 
and  weird  to  the  childishly  inane  was  but  a  step. 

Clodomiro  passed  on  to  the  kitchen,  and  Kit  smoked  his 
cigarette  and  paced  the  outer  corridor,  striving  for  plans 
to  move  forward  with  his  own  interests,  and  employ  the 
same  time  and  the  same  trail  for  the  task  set  by  Ramon 
Rotil. 

Rotil  had  stated  that  the  escort  of  Dona  Jocasta  must 
be  as  complete  as  could  be  arranged.  This  meant  a  duefia 
and  a  maid  at  least,  and  as  he  had  bidden  Tula  have  her 
way  with  her  "  Judas,"  it  surely  meant  that  Tula  must 
go  to  Soledad.  Very  well  so  far,  and  as  Rotil  would 
certainly  not  question  the  extent  of  the  outfit  taken  along, 
why  not  include  any  trifles  Tula  and  he  chanced  to  care 
for?  He  remembered  also  that  there  were  some  scat 
tered  belongings  of  the  Whitely's  left  behind  in  the  haste 
of  departure.  Well,  a  few  mule  loads  would  be  a  neigh 
borly  gift  to  take  north  when  he  crossed  the  border,  and 
Soledad  was  nearer  the  border ! 

It  arranged  itself  very  well  indeed,  and  as  Tula  emerged 
from  the  patio  smoothing  out  an  old  newspaper  frag 
ment  discarded  by  Fidelio,  and  chewing  chica  given  her 
by  Clodomiro,  he  hailed  her  with  joy. 

"  Blessed  Indian  Angel,"  he  remarked  appreciatively, 
"you  greased  the  toboggan  for  several  kinds  of  hell  for 
us  this  day  of  our  salvation,  but  your  jinx  was  on  the 
job,  and  turned  the  trick  our  way !  Do  you  know  you  are 
the  greatest  little  mascot  ever  held  in  captivity?" 

But  Tula  didn't  know  what  "  mascot "  meant,  and  was 


254  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

very  much  occupied  with  the  advertisement  of  a  suit  and 
cloak  house  in  the  old  Nogales  paper  in  which  some  trader 
at  the  railroad  had  wrapped  Fidelio's  tobacco.  It  had 
the  picture  of  an  alluring  lady  in  a  dress  of  much  ma 
terial  slipping  from  the  shoulders  and  dragging  around 
the  feet.  To  the  aboriginal  mind  that  seemed  a  very  great 
waste,  for  woven  material  was  hard  to  come  by  in  the 
desert. 

She  attempted  an  inquiry  concerning  that  wastefulness 
of  Americanas,  but  got  no  satisfactory  reply.  Kit  took 
the  tattered  old  paper  from  her  hand,  and  turned  it  over 
because  of  the  face  of  Singleton  staring  at  him  from 
the  other  side  of  the  page.  It  was  the  account  of  the 
inquest,  and  in  the  endeavor  to  add  interest  the  local  re 
porters  had  written  up  a  column  concerning  Singleton's 
quarrel  with  the  range  boss,  Rhodes,  —  and  the  mys 
terious  disappearance  of  the  latter  across  the  border! 

There  was  sympathetic  mention  made  of  Miss  Wilfreda 
Bernard,  heiress  of  Granados,  and  appreciative  mention 
of  the  efficient  manager,  Conrad,  who  had  offered  all 
possible  assistance  to  the  authorities  in  the  sad  affair. 
The  general  expression  of  the  article  was  regret  that  the 
present  situation  along  the  border  prevented  further  in 
vestigation  concerning  Rhodes.  The  said  Rhodes  ap 
peared  to  be  a  stranger  in  the  locality,  and  had  been 
engaged  by  the  victim  of  the  crime  despite  the  objections 
of  Manager  Conrad. 

There  followed  the  usual  praise  and  list  of  virtues  of 
the  dead  man,  together  with  reference  to  the  illustrious 
Spanish  pioneer  family  from  whom  his  wife  had  been 
descended.  It  was  the  first  time  Kit  had  been  aware  of 


THE  "JUDAS"  PRAYER  255 

the  importance  of  Fillie's  genealogy,  and  remembering 
the  generally  accepted  estimates  of  Spanish  pride,  he  mut 
tered  something  about  a  "rose  leaf  princess,  and  a 
Tennessee  hill-billy!" 

"It's  some  jolt,  two  of  them!"  he  conceded. 

Twinkle,  twinkle  little  star, 
How  I  wonder  what  you  are! 

They  say  bunches  of  stars  and  planets  get  on  a  jam 
boree  and  cross  each  other's  trail  at  times,  and  that  our 
days  are  rough  or  smooth  according  to  their  tantrums. 
Wish  I  knew  the  name  of  the  luminary  raising  hell  for 
me  this  morning !  It  must  be  doing  a  highland  fling  with 
a  full  moon,  and  I'm  being  plunked  by  every  scattered 
spark!" 


CHAPTER  XVI 

THE  SECRET  OF  SOLEDAD   CHAPEL 

IT  TOOK  considerable  persuasion  to  prevail  upon  Dona 
Jocasta  that  a  return  to  Soledad  would  be  of  any  ad 
vantage  to  anybody.  To  her  it  was  a  place  fearful  and 
accursed. 

"  But,  senora,  a  padre  who  sought  to  be  of  service  to 
you  is  still  there,  a  prisoner.  In  the  warring  of  those 
wild  men  who  will  speak  for  him?  The  men  of  Soledad 
would  have  killed  him  but  for  their  superstitions,  and 
Rotil  is  notorious  for  his  dislike  of  priests." 

"  I  know,"  she  murmured  sadly.  "  There  are  some 
good  ones,  but  he  will  never  believe.  In  his  scales  the  bad 
ones  weigh  them  down." 

"But  this  one  at  Soledad?" 

"Ah,  yes,  senor,  he  spoke  for  me,  —  Padre  Andreas." 

"And  a  prisoner  because  of  you?" 

"That  is  true.  You  do  well  to  remind  me  of  that. 
My  own  sorrows  sink  me  in  selfishness,  and  it  is  a 
good  friend  who  shows  me  my  duty.  Yes,  we  will  go. 
God  only  knows  what  is  in  the  heart  of  Ramon  Rotil  that 
he  wishes  it,  but  that  which  he  says  is  law  today  wher 
ever  his  men  ride,  and  I  want  no  more  sorrow  in  the 
world  because  of  me.  We  will  go." 

Valencia  had  gone  placidly  about  preparations  for  the 

256 


THE  SECRET  OF  SOLEDAD  CHAPEL      257 

journey  from  the  moment  Kit  had  expressed  the  will  of 
the  Deliverer.  To  hesitate  when  he  spoke  seemed  a  fool 
ish  thing,  for  in  the  end  he  always  did  the  thing  he  willed, 
and  to  form  part  of  the  escort  for  Dona  Jocasta  filled 
her  with  pride.  She  approved  promptly  the  suggestion 
that  certain  bed  and  table  furnishings  go  to  Soledad  for 
use  of  the  senora,  and  later  be  carried  north  to  Mrs. 
Whitely,  whose  property  they  were. 

As  capitan  of  the  outfit,  Kit  bade  her  lay  out  all  such 
additions  to  their  state  and  comfort,  and  he  would  per 
sonally  make  all  packs  and  decide  what  animals,  chests, 
or  provisions  could  be  taken. 

This  was  easier  managed  than  he  dared  hope.  Clodo- 
miro  rode  after  mules  and  returned  with  Benito  and 
Mariano  at  his  heels,  both  joyously  content  to  leave  the 
planting  of  fields  and  offer  their  young  lives  to  the  army 
of  the  Deliverer.  Isidro  was  busy  with  the  duties  of  the 
ranch  stock,  and  there  was  only  Tula  to  see  bags  of 
nuggets  distributed  where  they  would  be  least  noticed 
among  the  linen,  Indian  rugs,  baskets  and  such  family 
possessions  easiest  carried  to  their  owner. 

He  marked  the  packs  to  be  opened,  and  Tula,  watch 
ing,  did  not  need  to  be  told. 

The  emotions  of  the  night  and  the  uncertainty  of  what 
lay  ahead  left  Rhodes  and  Dona  Jocasta  rather  silent 
as  they  took  the  trail  to  the  gruesome  old  hacienda  called 
by  Dona  Jocasta  so  fearful  and  accursed.  Many  miles 
went  by  with  only  an  occasional  word  of  warning  between 
them  where  the  way  was  bad,  or  a  word  of  command 
for  the  animals  following. 

"In  the  night  I  rode  without  fear  where  I  dare  not 


258  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

look  in  the  sunlight,"  said  Jocasta  drawing  back  from  a 
narrow  ledge  where  stones  slipped  under  the  hoofs  of 
the  horses  to  fall  a  hundred  feet  below  in  a  dry  canon. 

"Yes,  senora,  the  night  was  kind  to  all  of  us,"  re 
turned  Kit  politely.  "  Even  the  accidents  worked  for 
good  except  for  the  pain  to  you." 

"That  is  but  little,  and  my  shoulder  of  no  use  to  any 
one.  General  Rotil  is  very  different,  —  a  wound  to  a 
soldier  means  loss  of  time.  It  is  well  that  shot  found  him 
among  friends  for  it  is  said  that  when  a  wolf  has  wounds 
the  pack  unites  to  tear  him  to  pieces,  and  there  are 
many,  —  many  pesos  offered  to  the  traitor  who  will  trap 
Rotil  by  any  lucky  accident." 

"  Yet  he  took  no  special  care  at  Mesa  Blanca." 

"  Who  knows  ?  He  brought  with  him  only  men  of  the 
district  as  guard.  Be  sure  they  knew  every  hidden  trail, 
and  every  family.  Ramon  Rotil  is  a  coyote  for  the  know 
ing  of  traps." 

She  spoke  as  all  Altar  spoke,  with  a  certain  pride  in 
the  ability  of  the  man  she  had  known  as  a  burro  driver 
of  the  sierras.  For  three  years  he  had  been  an  outlaw 
with  a  price  on  his  head,  and  as  a  rebel  general  the  price 
had  doubled  many  times. 

"With  so  many  poor,  how  comes  it  that  no  informer 
has  been  found?  The  reward  would  be  riches  untold 
to  a  poor  paisano" 

"It  might  be  to  his  widow/'  said  Dona  Jocasta,  "but 
no  sons  of  his,  and  no  brothers  would  be  left  alive." 

"True.  I  reckon  the  friends  of  Rotil  would  see  to 
that !  Faithful  hearts  are  the  ones  he  picks  for  comrades. 
I  heard  an  old-timer  say  the  Deliverer  has  that  gift." 


THE  SECRET  OF  SOLEDAD  CHAPEL 


She  looked  at  him  quickly,  and  away  again,  and  went 
silent.  He  wondered  if  it  was  true  that  there  had  been 
love  between  these  two,  and  she  had  been  unfaithful. 
Love  and  Dona  Jocasta  were  fruitful  themes  for  the 
imagination  of  any  man. 

Valencia  was  having  the  great  adventure  of  her  life 
in  her  journey  to  Soledad,  and  she  chattered  to  Tula  as  a 
maiden  going  to  a  marriage.  Three  people  illustrious 
in  her  small  world  were  at  once  to  be  centered  on  the 
stage  of  war  before  her  eyes.  She  told  Tula  it  was  a 
thing  to  make  songs  of,  —  the  two  men  and  the  most 
beautiful  woman! 

When  they  emerged  from  the  canon  into  the  wide 
spreading  plain,  with  the  sierras  looming  high  and  blue 
beyond,  the  eyes  of  Kit  and  Tula  met,  and  then  turned 
toward  their  own  little  camp  in  the  lap  of  the  mother 
range.  All  was  flat  blue  against  the  sky  there,  and  no 
indications  of  canon  or  gulch  or  pocket  discernible.  Even 
as  they  drew  nearer  to  the  hacienda,  and  Kit  surrepti 
tiously  used  the  precious  field  glasses,  thus  far  concealed 
from  all  new  friends  of  the  desert,  he  found  difficulty  in 
locating  their  hill  of  the  treasure,  and  realized  that  their 
fears  of  discovery  in  the  little  canon  had  been  groundless. 
In  the  far-away  time  when  the  giant  aliso  had  flourished 
there  by  the  canon  stream,  its  height  might  have  served 
to  mark  the  special  ravine  where  it  grew,  but  the  lightning 
sent  by  pagan  gods  had  annihilated  that  landmark  for 
ever,  and  there  was  no  other. 

The  glint  of  tears  shone  in  the  eyes  of  Tula,  and  she 
rode  with  downcast  eyes,  crooning  a  vagrant  Indian  air 
in  which  there  were  bird  calls,  and  a  whimpering  long- 


260 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

drawn  tremulo  of  a  baby  coyote  caught  in  a  trap,  a  weird 
ungodly  improvisation  to  hear  even  with  the  shining  sun 
warming  the  world. 

Kit  concluded  she  was  sending  her  brand  of  harmony 
to  Miguel  and  the  ghosts  on  guard  over  the  hidden 
trail.  —  And  he  rather  wished  she  would  stop  it ! 

Even  the  chatter  of  Valencia  grew  silent  under  the  spell 
of  the  girl's  gruesome  intonings,  —  ill  music  for  her  en 
trance  to  a  new  portal  of  adventure. 

"It  sounds  of  death,"  murmured  Dona  Jocasta,  and 
made  the  sign  of  the  cross.  "The  saints  send  that  the 
soul  to  go  next  has  made  peace  with  God!  See,  sefior, 
we  are  truly  crossing  a  place  of  death  as  she  sings.  That 
beautiful  valley  of  the  green  border  is  the  sumidero, — 
the  quicksands  from  hidden  springs  somewhere  above," 
and  she  pointed  to  the  blue  sierras.  "  I  think  that  is  the 
grave  Jose  meant  for  me  at  Soledad." 

"Nice  cheerful  end  of  the  trail  —  not!"  gloomed  Kit 
strictly  to  himself.  "  That  little  imp  is  whining  of  trouble 
like  some  be-deviled  prophetess." 

Afterwards  he  remembered  that  thought,  and  wished 
he  could  forget! 

Blue  shadows  stretched  eastward  across  the  wide  zaca- 
tan  meadows,  and  the  hacienda  on  the  far  mesa,  with  its 
white  and  cream  adobe  walls,  shone  opal-like  in  the 
lavender  haze  of  the  setting  sun. 

Kit  Rhodes  had  timed  the  trip  well  and  according  to 
instruction  of  the  general,  but  was  a  bit  surprised  to  find 
that  his  little  cavalcade  was  merely  part  of  a  more  elab 
orate  plan  arranged  for  sunset  at  Soledad. 

A  double  line  of  horsemen  rode  out  from  the  hacienda 


THE  SECRET  OF  SOLEDAD  CHAPEL      261 

to  meet  them,  a  rather  formidable  reception  committee 
as  they  filed  in  soldier-like  formation  over  the  three  miles 
of  yellow  and  green  of  the  spring  growths,  and  halted 
where  the  glint  of  water  shone  in  a  dam  filled  from  wells 
above. 

Their  officer  saluted  and  rode  forward,  his  hat  in  his 
hand  as  he  bowed  before  Dona  Jocasta. 

"  General  Rotil  presents  to  you  his  compliments, 
Senora  Perez,  and  sends  his  guard  as  a  mark  of  respect 
when  you  are  pleased  to  ride  once  more  across  your  own 
lands." 

"  My  thanks  are  without  words,  senor.  I  appreciate 
the  honor  shown  to  me.  My  generalissimo  will  answer 
for  me." 

She  indicated  Kit  with  a  wan  smile,  and  her  moment 
of  hesitation  over,  his  title  reminded  him  that  no  name 
but  El  Pajarito  had  been  given  him  by  his  Indian  friends. 
That,  and  the  office  of  manager  of  Mesa  Blanca,  was  all 
that  served  as  his  introduction  to  her,  and  to  Rotil.  With 
the  old  newspaper  in  his  pocket  indicating  that  Kit 
Rhodes  was  the  only  name  connected  with  the  murder  at 
Granados,  he  concluded  it  was  just  as  well. 

The  guard  drew  to  either  side,  and  the  officer  and  Kit, 
with  Dona  Jocasta  between  them,  rode  between  the  two 
lines,  followed  by  Tula  and  Valencia.  Then  the  guard 
fell  in  back  of  them,  leaving  Clodomiro  with  the  pack 
animals  and  the  Indian  boys  to  follow  after  in  the  dust. 

Dona  Jocasta  was  pale,  and  her  eyes  sought  Kit's  in 
troubled  question,  but  she  held  her  head  very  erect,  and 
the  shrouding  lace  veil  hid  all  but  her  eyes  from  the 
strangers. 


262 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

"  Senor  Pajarito,"  she  murmured  doubtfully.  "  The 
sun  is  still  shining,  and  there  are  no  chains  on  my 
wrists,  —  otherwise  this  guard  gives  much  likeness  to 
my  first  arrival  at  the  hacienda  of  Soledad ! " 

"  I  have  a  strong  belief  that  no  harm  is  meant  to  you 
by  the  general  commanding,"  he  answered,  "  else  I  would 
have  sought  another  trail,  and  these  men  look  friendly." 

"  God  send  they  be  so ! " 

"  They  have  all  the  earmarks,  —  and  look ! " 

They  were  near  enough  the  hacienda  to  see  men 
emerge  from  the  portal,  and  one  who  limped  and  leaned 
on  a  cane,  moved  ahead  of  the  others  and  stood  waiting. 

"  It  is  an  honor  that  I  may  bid  you  welcome  to  your 
own  estate,  Dona  Jocasta,"  he  said  grimly.  "We  have 
only  fare  of  soldiers  to  offer  you  at  first,  but  a  few  days 
and  good  couriers  can  remedy  that." 

"  I  beg  that  you  accept  my  thanks,  Commandant e"  she 
murmured  lowly.  "The  trail  was  not  of  my  choosing, 
and  it  is  an  ill  time  for  women  to  come  journeying/' 

"  The  time  is  a  good  time/'  he  said  bluntly,  "  for  there 
is  a  limit  to  my  hours  here.  And  in  one  of  them  I  may 
do  service  for  you/' 

His  men  stood  at  either  side  watching.  There  were 
wild  tales  told  of  Ramon  Rotil  and  women  who  crossed 
or  followed  his  trail,  but  here  was  the  most  beautiful  of 
all  women  riding  to  his  door  and  he  gave  her  no  smile, — 
merely  motioned  to  the  Americano  that  he  assist  her  from 
the  saddle. 

"  The  supper  is  ready,  and  your  woman  and  the  priest 
will  see  that  care  is  given  for  your  comfort,"  he  continued. 
"Afterwards,  in  the  sala " 


THE  SECRET  OF  SOLEDAD  CHAPEL      263 

She  bent  her  head,  and  with  Kit  beside  her  passed  on 
to  the  inner  portal.  There  a  dark  priest  met  her  and 
reached  out  his  hand. 

"No  welcome  is  due  me,  Padre  Andreas,"  she  said 
brokenly.  "  I  turned  coward  and  tried  to  save  myself." 

"  Daughter,"  he  returned  with  a  wry  smile  at  Kit,  and 
a  touch  of  cynic  humor,  "you  had  right  in  going.  The 
lieutenant  would  have  had  no  pleasure  in  adding  me  to 
his  elopement,  and,  as  we  hear,  —  your  stolen  trail  carried 
you  to  good  friends." 

Kit  left  them  there  and  gave  his  attention  to  space  for 
the  packs  and  outfit,  but  learned  that  the  general  had 
allotted  to  him  the  small  corral  used  in  happier  days  for 
the  saddle  horses  of  the  family.  There  was  a  gate  to 
it  and  a  lock  to  the  gate.  Chappo  had  been  given  charge, 
and  \vhen  all  was  safely  bestowed,  he  gave  the  key  to 
the  American. 

The  brief  twilight  crept  over  the  world,  and  candles 
were  lit  when  Kit  returned  to  the  corridor.  Rotil  was 
seated,  giving  orders  to  men  who  rode  in  and  dismounted, 
and  others  who  came  out  from  supper  mounted  and  rode 
away.  It  was  the  guard  from  a  wide-flung  arc  bringing 
report  of  sentinels  stationed  at  every  pass  and  water  hole. 

Padre  Andreas  was  there  presenting  some  appeal,  and 
to  judge  by  his  manner  he  was  not  hopeful  of  success. 
Yet  spoke  as  a  duty  of  his  office  and  said  so. 

"  What  is  your  office  to  me  ?  "  asked  Rotil  coldly.  "  Do 
your  duty  and  confess  him  when  the  time  comes  if  that  is 
his  wish.  It  is  more  than  he  would  have  given  to  her  or 
the  foreman  who  stored  the  ammunition.  Him  he  had 
killed  as  the  German  had  Miguel  Herrara  killed  on  the 


264  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

border,  —  and  Herrara  had  been  faithful  to  that  gun  run 
ning  for  months.  When  man  or  woman  is  faithful  to 
Jose  Perez  long  enough  to  learn  secrets,  he  rewards  them 
with  death.  A  dose  of  his  own  brew  will  be  fit  medicine." 

"But  the  woman,  —  she  is  safe.     She  is " 

"Yes,  very  safe!"  agreed  Rotil,  sneering.  "Shall  I 
tell  you,  pious  Father,  how  safe  she  is?  The  cholo  who 
took  food  to  Perez  and  that  German  dog  has  brought  me  a 
message.  See,  it  is  on  paper,  and  is  clear  for  any  to  read. 
You  —  no  not  you,  but  Don  Pajarito  here  shall  read  it. 
He  is  a  neutral,  and  not  a  padre  scheming  to  save  the  soul 
of  a  man  who  never  had  a  soul ! " 

Kit  held  it  to  the  light,  read  it,  and  returned  it  to 
Rotil. 

"I  agree  with  you,  General.  He  offers  her  to  you 
in  exchange  for  his  own  freedom." 

"Yes,  and  to  pay  for  that  writing  I  had  him  chained 
where  he  could  see  her  enter  the  plaza  as  a  queen,  if  we 
had  queens  in  Mexico !  You  had  an  unseen  audience  for 
your  arrival.  The  guard  reports  that  the  German  friend 
of  Perez  seems  to  love  you,  Don  Pajarito,  very  much 
indeed." 

"  Sure  he  does.  Here  is  the  mark  of  one  of  his  little 
love  pats  with  a  monkey  wrench,"  and  Kit  parted  his  hair 
to  show  the  scar  of  the  Granados  assault.  "  I  got  that  for 
interfering  when  he  was  trying  to  kill  his  employer's 
herds  with  ground  glass  in  their  feed." 

"  So?  no  wonder  if  he  goes  in  a  rage  to  see  you  riding 
as  a  lady's  caballero  while  he  feels  the  weight  of  chains 
in  a  prison.  This  world  is  but  a  little  place ! " 

"That  is  true,"  said  Padre  Andreas,  regarding  Kit, 


THE  SECRET  OF  SOLEDAD  CHAPEL      265 

"  for  the  story  of  the  horses  was  told  to  me  by  Dona 
Jocasta  here  in  Soledad." 

"How  could  that  be?"  demanded  Rotil.  "  Is  it  not 
true  you  met  the  lady  first  at  Mesa  Blanca?" 

"  As  you  say,"  said  Kit,  alert  at  the  note  of  suspicion, 
"  if  the  lady  knows  aught  of  Granados,  it  is  a  mystery  to 
me,  and  is  of  interest." 

"  Not  so  much  a  mystery,"  said  the  priest  "  Conrad 
boasted  much  when  glasses  were  emptied  with  Perez 
on  the  Hermosillo  rancho,  and  Dona  Jocasta  heard.  He 
told  the  number  of  cavalry  horses  killed  by  his  men,  also 
the  owner  of  that  ranch  of  Granados  who  had  to  be 
silenced  for  the  cause." 

"  Thanks  for  those  kind  words,  Padre,"  said  Kit.  "  If 
Dona  Jocasta  has  a  clear  memory  of  that  boasting,  she 
may  save  a  life  for  me." 

"So?"  said  Rotil  speculatively.  "We  seem  finding 
new  trails  at  Soledad.  Whose  life?" 

"The  partner  of  a  chum  of  mine,"  stated  Kit  lightly, 
as  he  did  some  quick  thinking  concerning  the  complica 
tions  likely  to  arise  if  he  was  regarded  as  a  possible 
murderer  hiding  from  the  law.  "  My  own  hunch  is  that 
Conrad  himself  did  it." 

"  Have  you  any  idea  of  a  trap  for  him  ?  " 

"  N-no,  General,  unless  he  was  led  to  believe  that  I  was 
under  guard  here.  He  might  express  his  sentiments  more 
freely  if  he  thought  I  would  never  get  back  across  the 
border  alive." 

"  Good  enough !  This  offer  from  Perez  is  to  go  into 
the  keeping  of  Doiia  Jocasta.  You've  the  duty  of  taking 
it  to  her.  We  have  not  yet  found  that  ammunition." 


266  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

"Well,  it  did  cross  the  border,  and  somebody  got  it." 

"He  says  it  was  moved  to  Hermosillo  before  Juan 
Gonsalvo,  the  overseer,  died." 

"  Was  shot,  you  mean,  after  it  was  cached." 

"  Maybe  so,  but  he  offers  to  trade  part  of  it  for  his 
liberty,  and  deliver  the  goods  north  of  Querobabi." 

"Yes,  General,  —  into  the  bodies  of  your  men  if  you 
trust  him." 

Rotil  chuckled.  "  You  are  not  so  young  as  you  look, 
Don  Pajarito,  and  need  no  warning.  It  is  the  room  next 
the  sala  where  I  will  have  Perez  and  Conrad  brought. 
The  sefiora  can  easily  overhear  what  is  said.  It  may  be 
she  will  have  the  mind  to  help  when  she  sees  that  offer 
he  made." 

"It  would  seem  so,  yet  —  women  are  strange!     They 

go  like  the  padre,  to  prayers  when  a  life  is  at  stake." 

v"  Some  women,  and  some  priests,  boy,"  said  the  dark 

priest.    "  It  may  be  that  you  do  not  know  Dona  Jocasta 

well." 

This  remark  appeared  to  amuse  Rotil,  for  he  smiled 
grimly  and  with  a  gesture  indicated  that  they  were  to 
join  Dona  Jocasta. 

She  was  rested  and  refreshed  by  a  good  supper. 
Valencia  and  Elena,  the  cook,  had  waited  upon  her  and 
the  latter  \vaxed  eloquent  over  the  stupendous  changes 
at  Soledad  from  the  time  of  Doiia  Jocasta' s  supper  the 
previous  day.  Many  of  the  angry  men  had  been  ready 
to  start  after  Marto  who  had  cheated  them,  when  a 
courier  rode  in  with  the  word  that  Don  Jose  and  Senor 
Conrad  were  close  behind.  Then  the  surprise  of  all  when 
Don  Jose  was  captured,  and  it  was  seen  that  Elena  had 


THE  SECRET  OF  SOLEDAD  CHAPEL      267 

been  cooking  these  many  days,  not  for  simple  vaqueros, 
but  for  some  soldiers  of  the  revolution  by  which  peace 
and  plenty  was  to  come  to  all  the  land !  It  was  a  beautiful 
dream,  and  the  Deliverer  was  to  make  it  come  true ! 

Tula  sat  in  the  shadow  against  the  wall,  like  some 
slender  Indian  carving,  mute  and  expressionless  while 
the  eyes  of  the  woman  rolled  as  the  two  old  friends  ex 
changed  their  wonder  tales  of  the  night  and  day !  Elena 
made  definite  engagement  to  be  with  the  "Judas  "  trailers 
on  the  dark  Friday,  and  both  breathed  blessings  on 
Rotil  who  had  promised  them  the  right  man  for  the 
hanging. 

It  was  this  cheerful  topic  Kit  entered  upon  with  the 
written  note  from  Perez  to  the  general.  He  had  no  lik 
ing  for  his  task,  as  his  eyes  rested  on  Dona  Jocasta, 
beautiful,  resigned  and  detached  from  the  scene  about 
her.  He  remembered  what  Rotil  had  said  scoffingly  of 
saints  lifted  from  shrines  —  a  man  never  forgot  that 
shrine  was  empty ! 

"Mine  is  a  thankless  task,  senora,  but  the  general 
decided  you  are  the  best  keeper  of  this,"  and  he  gave  to 
her  the  scribbled  page  torn  from  a  note  book. 

She  took  it  and  held  it  unread,  looking  at  him  with 
dark  tragic  eyes. 

"  I  have  fear  of  written  words,  senor,  and  would  rather 
hear  them  spoken.  So  many  changes  have  come  that  I 
dread  new  changes.  No  matter  where  my  cage  is  moved, 
it  is  still  a  cage  to  me,"  she  said  wistfully. 

"  I've  a  hunch,  Dona  Jocasta,  that  the  bars  of  that  cage 
are  going  to  be  broken  for  you,"  ventured  Kit,  taking  the 
seat  she  indicated,  "and  this  note  may  be  one  of  the 


THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 


weapons  to  do  it.  Evidently  Senor  Perez  has  had  some 
mistaken  information  concerning  the  stealing  of  you  from 
here;  —  he  thought  it  was  by  the  general's  order.  So 
mistaken  was  he  that  he  thought  you  were  the  object  of 
Rotil's  raid  on  Soledad,  and  for  his  own  freedom  he 
has  offered  to  give  you,  and  half  his  stock  of  ammunition, 
to  General  Ramon  Rotil,  and  agree  to  a  truce  between 
their  factions." 

"Ah!  he  offers  to  make  gift  of  me  to  the  man  he 
hates/'  she  said  after  a  long  silence.  "  And  the  guns  and 
ammunition,  —  he  also  surrenders  them  ?  " 

"He  offers — but  it  is  written  here!  Since  the  guns, 
however,  have  been  taken  south,  he  cannot  give  them; 
he  can  only  promise  them,  until  such  time " 

"  Ho ! "  she  said  scornfully.  "  Is  that  the  tale  he  tells  ? 
It  is  true  there  are  guns  in  the  south,  but  guns  are  also 
elsewhere!  He  forgets,  does  Jose  Perez,  —  or  else  he 
plays  for  time.  This  offer,"  and  she  referred  to  the  note, 
"  it  is  not  written  since  we  arrived  —  no.  It  was  written 
earlier,  when  he  thought  I  was  held  by  that  renegade 
far  in  the  desert." 

"I  reckon  that  is  true,  sefiora,  for  after  receiving  it, 
Rotil  had  him  chained  in  a  room  fronting  the  plaza  that 
he  might  see  you  enter  Soledad  with  honors." 

"Ramon  Rotil  did  that?"  she  mused,  looking  at  the 
note  thoughtfully,  "and  he  gives  to  me  the  evidence 
against  Jose?  Senor,  in  the  Perez  lands  we  hear  only 
evil  things  and  very  different  things  about  Rotil.  They 
would  say  this  paper  was  for  sale,  but  not  for  a  gift. 
And  —  he  gives  it  to  me!" 

Kit  also  remembered  different  things  and  evil  things 


THE  SECRET  OF  SOLEDAD  CHAPEL      269 

told  of  Rotil,  but  they  were  not  for  discussion  with  a  lady. 
He  had  wondered  a  bit  that  it  was  not  the  padre  who 
was  given  the  message  to  transmit,  yet  suddenly  he 
realized  that  even  the  padre  might  have  tried  to  make 
it  a  question  of  barter,  for  the  padre  wanted  help  for  his 
priestly  office  in  the  saving  of  Perez'  soul,  and  inci 
dentally  of  his  life. 

"  Yes,  senora,  it  seems  a  free-will  offering,  and  he  said 
to  tell  you  it  would  be  in  the  room  adjoining  this  that 
Perez  would  be  questioned  as  to  the  war  material.  Rotil's 
men  have  searched,  and  his  officers  have  questioned,  but 
Perez  evidently  thinks  Rotil  will  not  execute  him,  as  a 
ransom  will  pay  much  better." 

"  That  is  true,  death  pays  no  one  —  no  one ! " 

Her  voice  was  weighted  with  sadness,  and  Kit  won 
dered  what  the  cloud  was  under  which  she  lived.  The 
padre  evidently  knew,  but  none  of  Rotil's  men.  It  could 
not  be  the  mere  irregularity  of  her  life  with  Perez,  for 
to  the  peon  mind  she  was  the  great  lady  of  a  great 
hacienda,  and  wife  of  the  padrone.  No,  —  he  realized 
that  the.  sin  of  Dona  Jocasta  had  been  a  different  thing, 
and  that  the  shadow  of  it  enveloped  her  as  a  dark  cloak 
of  silence. 

"  It  is  true,  senora,  that  death  pays  no  one,  except  that 
the  death  of  one  man  may  save  other  lives  more  valuable. 
That  often  happens,"  remarked  Kit,  with  the  idea  of  dis 
tracting  her  from  her  own  woe,  whatever  it  wa's.  "It 
might  have  seemed  a  crime  if  one  of  his  nurses  had 
chucked  a  double  dose  of  laudanum  into  Bill  Hohen- 
zollern's  baby  feed,  but  that  nurse  would  have  saved  the 
lives  of  hundreds  of  thousands  of  innocents,  so  you  never 


270 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

can  tell  whether  a  murderer  is  a  devil,  or  a  man  doing 
work  of  the  angels." 

"  Bill  ?  "  Evidently  the  name  was  a  new  one  to  Dona 
Jocasta. 

"That's  the  name  of  the  Prussian  pirate  of  the  Huns 
across  the  water.  Your  friend  Conrad  belongs  to  them." 

"  My  friend !  My  friend,  senor ! "  and  Dona  Jocasta 
was  on  her  feet,  white  and  furious,  her  eyes  flaming 
hatred.  Kit  Rhodes  was  appalled  at  the  spirit  he  had 
carelessly  wakened.  He  remembered  the  statement  of 
the  priest  that  he  evidently  did  not  know  the  lady  well, 
and  realized  in  a  flash  that  he  certainly  did  not,  also  that 
he  would  feel  mere  comfortable  elsewhere. 

"  Sefiora,  I  beg  a  thousand  pardons  for  my  foolish 
ness,"  he  implored.  "My  —  my  faulty  Spanish  caused 
me  to  speak  the  wrong  word.  Will  you  not  forgive  me 
such  a  stupid  blunder?  Everyone  knows  the  German 
brute  could  not  be  a  friend  of  yours,  and  that  you  could 
have  only  hatred  of  his  kind." 

She  regarded  him  steadily  with  the  ever  ready  suspicion 
against  an  Americano  showing  in  her  eyes,  but  his  regret 
was  so  evident,  and  his  devotion  to  her  interests  so  sin 
cere,  that  the  tension  relaxed,  and  she  sank  back  in  her 
chair,  her  hand  trembling  as  she  covered  her  eyes  for 
a  moment. 

"  It  is  I  who  am  wrong,  senor.  You  cannot  know  how 
the  name  of  that  man  is  a  poison,  and  why  absolution 
is  refused  me  because  I  will  not  forgive,  —  and  will  not  say 
I  forgive!  I  will  not  lie,  and  because  of  the  hate  of  him 
my  feet  will  tread  the  fires  of  hell.  The  padre  is  telling 
me  that,  so  what  use  to  pray?  Of  what  use,  I  ask  you?  " 


THE  SECRET  OF  SOLEDAD  CHAPEL      271 

Kit  could  see  no  special  use  if  she  had  accepted  the 
threat  of  the  priest  that  hell  was  her  portion  anyway. 

"  Oh,  I  would  not  take  that  gabble  of  a  priest  seriously 
if  I  were  you,"  he  suggested.  "No  one  can  beat  me  in 
detesting  the  German  and  what  he  stands  for,  but  I  have 
no  plans  of  going  to  hell  for  it  —  not  on  your  life!  To 
hate  Conrad,  or  to  kill  him  would  be  like  killing  a  rattle 
snake,  or  stamping  a  tarantula  into  the  sand.  He  has 
been  let  live  to  sting  too  many,  and  Padre  Andreas  tells 
me  you  heard  him  boast  of  an  American  killing  at 
Granados ! " 

"  That  is  true,  sefior,  and  it  was  so  clever  too !  It  was 
pleasure  for  him  to  tell  of  that  because  of  clever  tricks 
in  it.  They  climbed  poles  to  the  wires  and  called  the 
man  to  a  town,  then  they  waited  on  that  road  and  shot 
him  before  he  reached  the  town.  The  alcalde  of  that 
place  decided  the  man  had  killed  himself,  and  Conrad 
laughed  with  Jose  Perez  on  account  of  that,  because  they 
were  so  clever ! " 

"They?"  queried  Kit  trying  to  prevent  his  eagerness 
from  showing  in  his  voice.  "Who  helped  him?  Not 
Perez?" 

"  No,  sefior,  in  that  sin  Jose  had  no  part.  It  was 
a  very  important  man  who  did  not  appear  important;  — 
quite  the  other  way,  and  like  a  man  of  piety.  His  name, 
I  am  remembering  it  well,  for  it  is  Diego,  —  but  said  in 
the  American  way,  which  is  James." 

"Diego,  said  in  the  American  way?"  repeated  Kit 
thoughtfully.  "  Is  he  then  an  American  ?  " 

"Not  at  all,  sefior!  He  is  Aleman  commandante  for 
the  border.  His  word  is  an  order  for  life  or  death, 


272 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

and  Jose  Perez  is  of  his  circle.  The  guns  buried  by  Perez 
are  bought  with  the  German  money;  it  is  for  war  of 
Sonora  against  Arizona  when  that  day  comes." 

"  Shucks !  that  day  isn't  coming  unless  the  Huns  put 
more  of  a  force  down  here  than  is  yet  in  sight,"  declared 
Kit,  "but  that  *  Diego'  bothers  me.  I  know  many 
James',  —  several  at  Granados,  but  not  the  sort  you  tell 
of,  senora.  Will  you  speak  of  that  murder  again,  and 
let  it  be  put  on  paper  for  me?  I  have  friends  at  Granados 
who  may  be  troubled  about  it,  and  your  help  would  be 
as  —  as  the  word  of  an  angel  at  the  right  hour." 

"  A  sad  angel,  sefior,"  she  said  with  a  sigh,  "  but  why 
should  I  not  help  you  to  your  wish  since  you  have  guarded 
me  well?  It  is  a  little  thing  you  ask." 

The  Indian  women  at  the  far  end  of  the  sola  had 
lowered  their  voices,  but  their  gossip  in  murmurs  and 
expressive  gestures  flowed  on,  and  only  Tula  gave  heed 
to  the  talk  at  the  table  of  wars  and  guns,  and  secrets  of 
murder,  and  that  was  no  new  thing  in  Sonora. 

One  door  of  the  sola  opened  from  the  patio,  and  an 
other  into  a  room  used  as  a  chapel  after  the  old  adobe 
walls  of  the  mission  church  had  melted  utterly  back  into 
the  earth.  Rotil  had  selected  it  merely  because  its  only 
window  was  very  high,  an  architectural  variation  caused 
by  a  wing  of  the  mission  rooms  still  standing  when 
Soledad  hacienda  was  built.  A  new  wall  had  been  built 
against  the  older  and  lower  one  which  still  remained, 
with  old  sleeping  cells  of  the  neophytes  used  as  tool  sheds, 
and  an  unsightly  litter  of  propped  or  tumbling  walls  back 
of  the  ranch  house. 

The  door  from  the  sola  was  slightly  ajar,  and  the 


THE  SECRET  OF  SOLEDAD  CHAPEL      273 

voice  of  Fidelio  was  heard  there.  He  asked  someone  for 
another  candle,  and  another  chair.  And  there  was  the 
movement  of  feet,  and  rearrangement  of  furniture. 

Rotil  entered  the  sala  from  the  patio,  and  stood  just 
inside,  looking  about  him. 

With  a  brief  word  and  gesture  he  indicated  that  Elena 
and  Valencia  vacate.  At  Tula  he  glanced,  but  did  not 
bid  her  follow.  He  noted  the  folded  paper  in  the  hand 
of  Doiia  Jocasta,  but  did  not  address  her;  it  was  to  Kit 
he  spoke. 

"  The  door  will  be  left  open.  I  learn  that  Conrad  dis 
trusts  Perez  because  he  paid  German  money,  and  shipped 
the  guns  across  the  border,  but  Perez  never  uncovered 
one  for  him.  They  are  badly  scared  and  ready  to  cut 
each  other's  throats  if  they  had  knives.  Dona  Jocasta 
may  overhear  what  she  pleases,  and  furnish  the  knives 
as  well  if  she  so  decides.'* 

But  Dona  Jocasta  with  a  shudder  put  up  her  hand  in 
protest. 

"No  knife,  no  knife!"  she  murmured,  and  Rotil 
shrugged  his  shoulders  and  looked  at  Kit. 

"That  little  crane  in  the  corner  would  walk  barefoot 
over  embers  of  hell  to  get  a  knife  and  get  at  Conrad," 
he  said.  "  You  have  taste  in  your  favorites,  sefior." 

He  seemed  to  get  a  certain  amusement  in  the  con 
templation  of  Kit  and  Tula ;  he  had  seen  no  other  Ameri 
can  with  quite  that  sort  of  addition  to  his  outfit.  Kit 
was  content  to  let  him  think  his  worst,  as  to  tell  the  truth 
would  no  doubt  lose  them  a  friend.  It  tickled  the  gen 
eral's  fancy  to  think  the  thin  moody  Indian  girl,  immature 
and  childlike,  was  an  American's  idea  of  a  sweetheart! 


274  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

Voices  and  the  clank  of  chains  were  heard  in  the 
patio,  and  then  in  the  next  room. 

"Why  bring  us  here  when  your  questions  were  given 
answer  as  well  in  another  place?"  demanded  a  man's 
voice,  and  at  that  Dona  Jocasta  looked  at  Rotil. 

"  Yes,  why  do  you  ?  "  she  whispered. 

He  stared  at  her,  frowning  and  puzzled. 

"  Did  I  not  tell  you  ?  I  did  it  that  you  might  hear  him 
repeat  his  offer.  What  else  ?  " 

"I  —  see,"  she  said,  bending  her  head,  but  as  Rotil 
went  to  the  door,  Kit  noted  that  the  eyes  of  Dona  Jocasta 
followed  him  curiously.  He  concluded  that  the  unseen 
man  of  the  voice  was  Jose  Perez. 

Then  the  voice  of  Conrad  was  heard  cursing  at  a  chain 
too  heavy.  Rotil  laughed,  and  walked  into  the  chapel. 

"  I  can  tell  you  something,  you  German  Judas ! "  he 
said  coldly.  "You  will  live  to  see  the  day  when  these 
chains,  and  this  safe  old  chapel,  will  be  as  a  paradise 
you  once  lived  in.  You  will  beg  to  crawl  on  your  knees 
to  be  again  comfortably  inside  this  door." 

"Is  that  some  Mexican  joke?"  asked  Conrad,  and 
Rotil  laughed  again. 

"  Sure  it  is,  and  it  will  be  on  you !  They  tell  me  you 
collect  girls  in  Sonora  for  a  price.  Well,  they  have  grown 
fond  of  you,  —  the  Indian  women  of  Sonora !  They  say 
you  must  end  your  days  here  with  them.  I  have  not 
heard  of  a  ransom  price  they  would  listen  to,  —  though 
you  might  think  of  what  you  have  to  offer." 

"Offer?"  growled  Conrad.  "How  is  there  anything 
to  offer  in  Sonora  when  Perez  here  has  sent  the  guns 
south?" 


THE  SECRET  OF  SOLEDAD  CHAPEL      275 

"  True,  the  matter  of  ransom  seems  to  rest  with  Senor 
Perez  who  is  saving  of  words." 

"  I  put  the  words  on  paper,  and  sent  it  by  your  man/' 
said  Perez.  "  What  else  is  there  to  say  ?  " 

"Oh,  that?"  returned  Rotil.  "My  boys  play  tricks, 
and  make  jokes  with  me  like  happy  children.  Yes, 
Chappo  did  bring  words  on  paper,  —  foolish  words  he 
might  have  written  himself.  I  take  no  account  of  such 
things.  You  are  asked  for  the  guns,  and  I  get  foolish 
words  on  paper  of  a  woman  you  would  trade  to  me,  and 
guns  you  would  send  me." 

"Well?" 

"  Who  gives  you  right  to  trade  the  woman,  sefior  ?  " 

"  Who  has  a  better  right  ?    She  belongs  to  me." 

"Very  good!    And  her  name?" 

"You  know  the  name." 

"  Perhaps,  but  I  like  my  bargains  with  witness,  and 
they  must  witness  the  name." 

"  Jocasta  —  "  There  was  a  slight  hesitation,  and  Rotil 
interrupted. 

"  She  has  been  known  as  Senora  Jocasta  Perez,  is  it 
not  so?" 

"  Well  —  yes,"  came  the  slow  reply,  "  but  that  was  fool 
ishness  of  the  peons  on  my  estates.  They  called  her  that." 

"  Very  good !  One  woman  called  Jocasta  Perez  is 
offered  to  me  in  trade  with  the  guns.  Jose  Perez,  have 
you  not  seen  that  the  Dona  Jocasta  Perez  is  even  now 
mistress  of  Soledad,  and  that  my  men  and  I  are  as  her 
servants  ?  " 

Jocasta  on  the  other  side  of  the  door  strangled  a  half 
sob  as  she  heard  him,  and  crept  nearer  the  door. 


276  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

"  Oh,  you  are  a  good  one  at  a  bargain,  Ramon  Rotil ! 
You  try  to  pretend  the  woman  cannot  count  in  this  trade, 
but  women  always  count,  —  women  like  Jocasta ! " 

"  So  ?  Then  we  will  certainly  take  count  of  the  woman 
—  one  woman!  Now  to  guns  and  ammunition.  How 
many,  and  where?" 

"  At  Hermosillo,  and  it  will  take  a  week." 

"I  have  no  week  to  waste,  and  I  do  not  mean  the 
guns  at  Hermosillo.  You  have  five  minutes,  Jose  Perez. 
Also  those  playful  boys  are  building  a  nice  warm  fire 
for  the  branding  irons.  And  you  will  both  get  a 
smell  of  your  own  burning  hides  if  I  wait  longer  for  an 
answer." 

"Holy  God!"  shouted  Conrad.  "Why  burn  me  for 
his  work?  From  me  the  guns  have  been  hid  as  well  as 
from  you;  —  all  I  got  was  promises!  They  are  my 
guns,  —  my  money  paid,  but  he  is  not  straight!  Here 
at  Soledad  he  was  to  show  me  this  time,  but  I  think  now 
it  was  a  trick  to  murder  me  as  he  murdered  Juan  Gon- 
salvo,  the  foreman  who  stored  them  away  for  him." 

"  Animal ! "  growled  Perez.  "  You  have  lost  your  head 
to  talk  of  murders  to  me !  Two  murders  at  Granados  are 
waiting  for  you,  and  it  is  not  far  to  ship  you  back  to  the 
border!  Walk  with  care,  senor!" 

"You  are  each  wasting  time  with  your  truth  telling," 
stated  Rotil.  "  This  is  no  time  to  count  your  dead  men. 
It  is  the  count  of  the  guns  I  want.  And  a  sight  of  the 
ammunition." 

"  Give  me  a  guide  to  Hermosillo,  and  the  price  of  guns 
can  be  got  for  you." 

"  It  is  not  the  price  of  guns  I  asked  you  for,  it  is  guns, 


THE  SECRET  OF  SOLEDAD  CHAPEL      277 

—  the  guns  Conrad  and  Herrara  got  over  the  border  for 
you.  Your  time  is  going  fast,  Jose  Perez." 

"  They  are  not  to  be  had  this  side  of  Hermosillo,  send 
me  south  if  you  want  them.  But  it  is  well  to  remember 
that  if  an  accident  happens  to  me  you  never  could  get 
them,  —  never!  I  alone  know  their  hiding  place." 

"  For  that  reason  have  I  waited  for  your  visit  to  Sole- 
dad, —  you  and  your  carts  and  your  pack  mules,"  stated 
Rotil.  "  Do  not  forget  that  Marto  Cavayso  and  other 
men  of  mine  have  been  for  weeks  with  your  ranchmen. 
Your  pack  train  comes  here  empty,  and  means  one  thing 
only  —  they  came  for  the  American  guns !  Your  minutes 
are  going,  senor,  and  the  branding  irons  are  getting  heat 
from  the  fire.  One  more  minute ! " 

"  Write  the  figures  of  the  ransom,  and  grant  me  a  mes 
senger  to  Hermosillo.  You  have  the  whip  hand,  you 
can  make  your  price." 

"  But  me  ?  What  of  my  ransom  ?  "  demanded  Conrad. 
"My  money,  and  my  time  paid  for  those  guns  —  I  have 
not  seen  one  of  them  this  side  of  the  border !  If  no  guns 
are  paid  for  me,  money  must  be  paid." 

"No  price  is  asked  for  you.  I  told  you  the  women 
have  named  no  ransom." 

"Women?  That  is  foolishness.  It  is  not  women  for 
whom  you  hold  me !  He  has  turned  traitor,  has  Perez ! 
He  wants  me  sent  back  across  the  border  without  that 
price  of  the  guns  for  his  mushroom  government !  He  has 
told  his  own  tales  of  Herrara,  and  of  Singleton,  and  they 
are  lies  — all  lies!" 

"  But  what  of  the  tale  of  Diego,  said  in  the  American 
way?"  asked  Kit  stepping  inside  the  room. 


278 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

"Diego!  Diego!"  repeated  Conrad  and  made  a  leap 
at  Perez.  "  You  have  sold  me  out  to  the  Americans,  you 
scum !  James  warned  me  you  were  scum  of  the  gutters, 
and  now " 

The  guard  caught  him,  and  he  stood  there  shaking  with 
fury  in  the  dim  light.  Perez  drew  away  with  a  curse. 

"To  hell  with  you  and  James  and  your  crew  on  the 
border,"  he  growled.  "  I  care  nothing  as  to  how  soon  the 
damned  gringos  swing  you  both.  When  you  Germans 
want  to  use  us  we  are  your  '  dear  brothers/  When  we 
out- trick  you,  we  are  only  scum,  eh?  You  can  tell  your 
commandant  e  James  that  I  won  the  game  from  him,  and 
all  the  guns ! " 

"My  thanks  to  you,  General  Rotil,  that  I  have  been 
allowed  to  hear  this,"  said  Kit,  "  also  that  I  have  witness. 
I'd  do  as  much  for  you  if  the  chance  comes.  Two  men 
were  killed  on  the  border  by  Conrad  under  order  of  this 
James.  Herrara  was  murdered  in  prison  for  fear  he 
would  turn  informer  about  the  guns.  Singleton  was  mur 
dered  to  prevent  him  investigating  the  German  poisoning 
of  cavalry  horses.  The  German  swine  meant  to  control 
Granados  rancho  a  few  months  longer  for  their  own 
purposes." 

"  Meant  to  ?  "  sneered  Conrad.  "  You  raw  cub ! — you 
are  playing  with  dynamite  and  due  for  a  fall.  So  is  your 
fool  country !  Though  Perez  here  has  lost  his  nerve  and 
turned  traitor  to  our  deal,  that  is  only  a  little  puff  of  wind 
against  the  bulwarks  of  the  Fatherland!  We  will  hold 
Granados;  we  will  hold  the  border;  and  with  Mexico 
(not  this  crook  of  the  wrest,  but  real  Mexico)  we  will  win 
and  hold  every  border  state  and  every  Pacific  coast  state ! 


THE  SECRET  OF  SOLEDAD  CHAPEL      279 

You,  —  poor  fool!  —  will  never  reach  Granados  alive  to 
tell  this.  You  are  but  one  American  in  the  Indian  wilder 
ness,  and  you  are  sure  to  go  under,  but  you  go  knowing 
that  though  James  and  I  die,  and  though  a  thousand  more 
of  us  die,  there  will  be  ten  thousand  secret  German 
workers  in  America  to  carry  on  our  plan  until  all  the 
world  will  be  under  the  power  of  the  Prussian  eagle! 
You,  —  who  think  you  know  so  much,  can  add  that  to 
finish  your  education  in  Sonora,  and  carry  it  to  hell  with 
you!" 

His  voice,  coldly  contemptuous  at  first,  had  risen  to  a 
wrathful  shriek  as  he  faced  the  American  and  hurled  at 
him  the  exultance  of  the  Teuton  dream. 

"  I  certainly  am  in  great  luck  to  be  your  one  American 
confessor/'  grinned  Kit,  "but  I'll  postpone  that  trip  as 
long  as  possible.  I  reckon  General  Rotil  will  let  the 
padre  help  me  make  note  of  this  education  you  are  hand 
ing  out  to  me.  A  lot  of  Americans  need  it !  Have  I  your 
permission,  General?" 

"  Go  as  far  as  you  like,"  snapped  Rotil.  "  They  have 
used  up  their  time  limit  in  scolding  like  old  women. 
Perez,  I  wait  for  the  guns." 

"  Send  me  to  Hermosillo  and  I  will  recover  enough  for 
a  ransom,"  said  Perez. 

Rotil  regarded  him  a  moment  through  half -closed, 
sinister  eyes. 

"That  was  your  last  chance,  and  you  threw  it  away. 
Chappo,  strip  him;  Fidelio,  fetch  the  branding  irons." 

Perez  shrank  back,  staring  at  Rotil  as  if  fascinated. 
He  was  striving  to  measure  the  lengths  to  which  the 
"  Hawk  of  the  Sierras  "  would  go,  and  a  sudden  gleam  of 


280  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

hope  came  into  his  eyes  as  Padre  Andreas  held  up  a  cru 
cifix  before  Chappo,  waving  him  aside. 

"  No,  Rotil,  —  torture  is  a  thing  for  animals,  not  men ! 
Hell  waits  for  the  sinner  who " 

"  Hell  won't  wait  for  you  one  holy  minute ! "  snapped 
Rotil.  "Get  back  with  the  women  where  you  belong; 
there  is  men's  work  to  do  here/* 

He  caught  the  priest  by  the  arm  in  an  iron  grip  and 
whirled  him  towards  the  sala.  The  man  would  have 
fallen  but  for  Kit  who  caught  him,  but  could  not  save 
the  crash  of  his  head  against  the  door.  Blood  streamed 
from  a  cut  in  his  forehead,  and  thus  he  staggered  into  the 
room  where  Dona  Jocasta  stood,  horror-stricken  and 
poised  for  flight. 

But  the  sight  of  the  blood-stained  priest,  and  the  sound 
of  a  strange,  half  animal  cry  from  the  other  room,  turned 
her  feet  that  way. 

"No,  Ramon!  No-no!"  she  cried  and  sped  through 
the  door  to  fling  herself  between  him  and  his  victims. 

Her  arms  were  stretched  wide  and  she  halted,  almost 
touching  him,  with  her  back  to  the  chained  man  towards 
whom  she  had  not  glanced,  but  she  could  not  help  seeing 
the  charcoal  brazier  with  the  red-hot  branding  irons  held 
by  Fidelio.  The  gasping  cry  had  come  from  Conrad  by 
whom  the  brazier  was  set. 

Ramon  Rotil  stared  at  her,  frowning  as  if  he  would 
fling  her  from  his  path  as  he  had  the  priest. 

"No,  Ramon!"  she  said  again,  still  with  that  sup 
plicating  look  and  gesture,  "  send  them  out  of  here,  —  both 
these  men.  I  would  smother  and  die  in  a  room  with 
that  German  beast.  You  will  not  be  sorry,  Ramon  Rotil, 


'No,  Ramon!     No!"  she  cried,  and  flung  herself  between 
him  and  his  victims 


THE  SECRET  OF  SOLEDAD  CHAPEL      281 

I  promise  you  that,  —  I  promise  you  by  the  God  I  dare  not 
face!" 

"Ho!"  snarled  Perez.  "Is  the  priest  also  her  lover 
that  she- 

"  Send  the  German  out,  and  let  Jose  Perez  stay  to  see 
that  I  keep  my  promise,"  she  said  letting  her  arms  fall  at 
her  side,  but  facing  Rotil  with  an  addition  of  hauteur  in 
her  poise  and  glance.  "The  price  he  will  pay  for  the 
words  he  has  spoken  here  will  be  a  heavy  price,  —  one  he  has 
risked  life  to  hold !  Send  that  pale  snake  and  your  men 
outside,  Ramon." 

Perez  was  leaning  forward,  his  face  strained  and  white, 
watching  her.  He  could  not  see  her  face,  but  the  glimpse 
of  hope  came  again  into  his  eyes  —  a  woman  might  suc 
ceed  with  Rotil  where  a  priest  would  fail! 

Rotil,  still  frowning  at  her,  wraved  his  hand  to  Chappo 
and  Fidelio. 

"Take  him  away,"  he  said,  "and  wait  beyond." 

The  shuffling  movement  and  clank  of  chains  was  heard, 
but  she  did  not  turn  her  head.  Instead  she  moved  past 
Rotil,  lifted  a  candle,  and  went  towards  the  shrine  at 
the  end  of  the  room. 

A  table  was  there  with  a  scarf  across  it,  and  back  of 
the  table  three  steps  leading  up  to  a  little  platform  on 
which  were  ranged  two  or  three  mediocre  statues  of 
saints,  once  brilliant  with  blue  and  scarlet  and  tinsel,  but 
tarnished  and  dim  from  the  years. 

In  the  center  was  a  painting,  also  dark  and  dim  in 
which  only  a  halo  was  still  discernible  in  the  light  of  the 
candle,  but  the  features  of  the  saint  pictured  there  were 
shadowed  and  elusive. 


282  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

For  a  moment  she  knelt  on  the  lower  step  and  bent  her 
head  because  of  those  remnants  of  a  faith  which  was  all 
she  knew  of  earthly  hope,  —  and  then  she  started  to  mount 
the  steps. 

"  The  curse  of  God  shrivel  you ! "  muttered  Perez  in 
cold  fury — "come  down  from  there!" 

Without  heed  to  the  threat,  she  moved  the  little  statues 
to  right  or  left,  and  then  lifted  her  hand,  resting  it  on 
the  wooden  frame  of  the  painting. 

"  Call  the  Americano,"  she  said  without  turning.  "  You 
will  need  a  man,  but  not  a  man  of  Altar.  Another  day 
may  come  when  you,  Ramon,  may  have  need  of  this 
house  for  hiding!" 

Rotil  strode  to  the  door  and  motioned  Kit  to  enter, 
then  he  closed  both  doors  and  gave  no  heed  to  Perez, 
crouched  there  like  a  chained  coyote  in  a  trap. 

"Come  down!"  he  said  again.  "You  are  in  league 
with  hell  to  know  of  that.  I  never  gave  it  to  you !  Come 
down !  I  meant  to  tell  after  he  had  finished  with  Conrad 
—  I  mean  to  tell!" 

"  He  waited  too  long,  and  spoke  too  much,"  she  said 
to  Rotil.  "Keep  watch  on  him,  and  let  the  Americano 
give  help  here." 

Kit  mounted  the  step  beside  her,  and  at  her  gesture 
took  hold  of  the  frame  on  one  side.  She  found  a  wedge 
of  wood  at  the  other  side  and  drew  it  out.  The  loosened 
frame  was  lifted  out  by  Kit  and  carried  down  the  three 
steps;  it  was  a  panel  a  little  over  two  feet  in  width  and 
four  in  height. 

"Set  it  aside,  and  watch  Jose  Perez  while  General 
Rotil  looks  within,"  she  said  evenly. 


THE  SECRET  OF  SOLEDAD  CHAPEL      283 

Rotil  glanced  at  Perez  scowling  black  hate  at  her,  and 
then  turned  to  Jocasta  who  held  out  the  candle. 

"It  is  for  you  to  see, — you  and  no  other,"  she  said. 
"You  have  saved  a  woman  he  would  have  traded  as  a 
slave,  and  I  give  you  more  than  a  slave's  ransom." 

He  took  the  candle  and  his  eyes  suddenly  flamed  with 
exultation  as  her  meaning  came  to  him. 

"Jocasta!"  he  muttered  as  if  scarce  believing,  and  then 
he  mounted  the  step,  halted  an  instant  in  the  panel  of 
shadow,  and,  holding  the  candle  over  his  head,  he  leaned 
forward  and  descended  on  the  other  side  of  the  wall. 

"You  damned  she-wolf  of  the  hills!"  growled  Perez 
with  the  concentrated  hate  of  utter  failure  in  his  voice. 
"  I  fed  you,  and  my  money  covered  your  nakedness,  and 
now  you  put  a  knife  in  my  neck  and  go  back  to  cattle  of 
the  range  for  a  mate!  You,  —  without  shame  or  soul!" 

"That  is  true,"  she  said  coldly.  "You  killed  a  soul 
in  the  casita  of  the  oleanders,  Jose  Perez,  and  it  was  a 
dead  woman  you  and  the  German  chained  to  be  buried 
in  the  desert.  But  even  the  dead  come  back  to  help 
friends  who  are  faithful,  Jose,  —  and  I  am  as  the  dead 
who  walk." 

She  did  not  look  at  him  as  she  spoke,  but  sank  on  her 
knees  before  the  dark  canvas  where  only  the  faint  golden 
halo  gave  evidence  of  some  incarnated  holiness  portrayed 
there.  Her  voice  was  low  and  even,  and  the  sadness  of  it 
thrilled  Kit.  He  thought  of  music  of  sweet  chords,  and 
a  broken  string  vibrating,  for  the  hopelessness  in  her  voice 
held  a  certain  fateful  finality,  and  her  delicate  dark  love 
liness 

Rotil  emerged  from  the  doorway  of  the  shrine  and 


284  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

stood  there,  a  curious  substitute  for  the  holy  picture,  look 
ing  down  on  her  with  a  wonderful  light  in  his  face. 

"Your  ransom  wins  for  you  all  you  wish  of  me, — 
except  the  life  of  one  man,"  he  said,  and  with  a  gesture 
indicated  that  Kit  help,  her  to-  her  feet.  He  did  so,  and 
saw  that  she  was  very  white  and  trembling. 

Rotil  looked  at  Perez  over  her  head,  and  Perez  scowled 
back,  with  all  the  venom  of  black  hate. 

"  You  win !  —  but  a  curse  walks  where  she  walks.  Ask 
her?  Ask  Marto  of  the  men  she  put  under  witchcraft! 
Ask  Conrad  who  had  good  luck  till  she  hated  him!  If 
you  have  a  love,  or  a  child,  or  anything  dear,  let  her  not 
look  hate  on  them,  for  her  knife  follows  that  look!  Ask 
her  of  the  knife  she  set  in  the  heart  of  a  child  for  jealousy 
of  Conrad !  Ai,  general  though  you  are,  your  whole  army 
is  not  strong  enough  to  guard  you  from  the  ill  luck  you 
will  take  with  the  gift  she  gives!  She  is  a  woman  under 
a  curse.  Ha!  Look  at  her  as  I  say  it,  for  you  hear  the 
truth.  Ask  the  padre ! " 

Kit  realized  that  Perez  was  launching  against  her  the 
direst  weight  of  evil  the  Mexican  or  Indian  mind  has  to 
face.  Though  saints  and  heaven  and  hell  might  be  denied 
by  certain  daring  souls,  the  potency  of  witchcraft  was 
seldom  doubted.  Men  or  women  accused  of  it  were 
shunned  as  pariahs,  and  there  had  been  known  persons 
who  weakened  and  dwindled  into  death  after  accusation 
had  been  put  against  them. 

He  thought  of  it  as  she  cowered  under  each  separate 
count  of  the  curse  launched  against  her.  She  bent  like  a 
slender  reed  under  the  strokes  of  a  flail,  lower  and  lower 
against  his  arm,  but  when  the  deadly  voice  flung  the  final 


THE  SECRET  OF  SOLEDAD  CHAPEL      285 

taunt  at  her,  she  straightened  slowly  and  looked  at  Rotil. 

"Yes,  ask  the  padre  —  or  ask  me!"  she  said  in  that 
velvet  soft  voice  of  utter  despair.  "  That  I  sent  an  inno 
cent  soul  to  death  is  too  true.  To  my  great  sorrow  I  did 
it;  —  I  would  do  it  again!  For  that  my  life  is  indeed  a 
curse  to  me,  —  but  his  every  other  word  a  lie ! " 

Then  she  took  a  step  forward,  faltered,  and  fell  back 
into  the  outstretched  arm  of  Kit. 

"Take  Senora  Perez  to  the  women,  and  come  back/' 
said  Rotil.  Kit  noted  that  even  though  he  moved  close, 
and  bent  over  the  white  unconscious  face,  he  did  not  touch 
her. 

"  Senora  Perez ! "  repeated  Perez  contemptuously. 
"You  are  generous  with  other  men's  names  for  your 
women !  Her  name  is  the  Indian  mother's  name." 

"Half  Indian,"  corrected  Rotil,  "and  her  naming  I 
will  decide  another  time." 

Kit  returned,  and  without  words  proceeded  to  help  re 
place  the  holy  picture  in  its  niche.  In  the  struggle  with 
the  padre,  a  chunk  of  adobe  had  been  knocked  from  the 
wall  near  the  door,  and  he  picked  it  up,  crumbling  it  to 
a  soft  powder  and  sprinkled  it  lightly  over  the  steps 
where  foot  prints  were  traceable  in  the  dust. 

Rotil  who  had  gone  to  the  door  to  recall  the  guard, 
halted  and  watched  him  closely. 

"  Good ! "  he  said.  "  You  also  give  me  a  thought  con 
cerning  this  animal;  he  will  bark  if  he  has  listeners,  and 
even  the  German  should  not  hear  —  one  never  knows! 
I  need  a  cage  for  a  few  hours.  You  have  been  a  friend, 
and  know  secret  things.  Will  you  lock  him  in  your  own 
room  and  hold  the  key  to  yourself  ?  " 


286 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

"  Surest  thing  you  know,"  answered  Kit  though  with 
the  uncomfortable  certainty  that  the  knowledge  of  too 
many  secret  things  in  Mexico  was  not  conducive  to  long 
life  for  the  knower.  "  I  may  also  assure  you  that  Marto 
is  keen  on  giving  you  honest  service  that  his  one  fault 
may  be  atoned  for." 

"He  will  get  service,"  stated  Rotil.  "You  saved  me 
a  good  man  there,  amigo." 

He  flung  open  the  door  of  the  corridor  and  whistled 
for  the  guard. 

"  Remove  this  man  and  take  your  orders  from  Capi- 

tan "  He  halted,  and  his  eyes  narrowed  quizzically. 

"It  seems  we  never  were  introduced,  amigo,  and  we 
know  only  your  joy  name  of  the  singer,  but  there  must  be 
another." 

"Oh,  yes,  there's  another,  all  right,"  returned  Kit, 
knowing  that  Conrad  would  enlighten  Rotil  if  he  did  not. 
"I'm  the  hombre  suspected  of  that  Granados  murder 
committed  by  Conrad,  —  and  the  name  is  Rhodes." 

"  So?  Then  the  scolding  of  these  two  comrades  gives 
to  you  your  freedom  from  suspicion,  eh  ?  That  is  good, 
but  — "  He  looked  at  Kit,  frowning.  "See  here,  I 
comprehend  badly.  You  told  me  it  was  the  friend  of 
your  compadre  who  was  the  suspected  one ! " 

"Sure!  I've  a  dandy  partner  across  the  border.  He's 
the  old  man  you  saw  at  Yaqui  Spring,  and  I  reckon  I'm 
a  fairly  good  friend  of  his.  He'd  say  so ! " 

Rotil's  face  relaxed  in  a  grin. 

"That  is  clever,  a  trick  and  no  harm  in  it,  but — have 
a  care  to  yourself !  It  is  easy  to  be  too  clever,  and  on  a 
trail  of  war  no  one  has  time  to  learn  if  tricks  are  of  harm 


THE  SECRET  OF  SOLEDAD  CHAPEL      287 

or  not.  Take  the  warning  of  a  friend,  Capitan  Rhodes ! " 
"You  have  the  right  of  it,  General.  I  have  much  to 
learn,"  agreed  Kit.  "  But  no  man  goes  abroad  to  shout 
the  crimes  he  is  accused  of  at  home,  —  and  the  story  of 
this  one  is  very  new  to  me.  This  morning  I  learned  I 
was  thought  guilty,  and  tonight  I  learn  who  is  the  crim 
inal,  and  how  the  job  was  done.  This  is  quick  work,  and 
I  owe  the  luck  of  it  to  you." 

"  May  the  good  luck  hold ! "  said  Rotil.  "  And  see  that 
the  men  leave  you  alone  as  the  guard  of  Perez.  I  want 
no  listeners  there." 


CHAPTER  XVII 

THE  STORY  OF  DONA  JOCASTA 

RAMON  ROTIL  stood  a  long  minute  after  the  clank 
of  chains  ceased  along  the  corridor ;  then  he  bolted 
the  outer  door  of  the  chapel,  and  after  casting  a  grim 
satisfied  smile  at  the  screen  of  the  faded  canvas,  he  opened 
the  door  of  the  sala  and  went  in. 

Valencia  was  kneeling  beside  Doiia  Jocasta  and  forc 
ing  brandy  between  the  white  lips,  while  Elena  bustled 
around  the  padre  whose  head  she  had  been  bathing.  A 
basin  of  water,  ruby  red,  was  evidence  of  the  fact  that 
Padre  Andreas  was  not  in  immediate  need  of  the  serv 
ices  of  a  leech.  He  sat  with  his  bandaged  head  held  in 
his  hands,  and  shrank  perceptibly  when  the  general  en 
tered  the  room. 

Dona  Jocasta  swallowed  some  of  the  brandy,  half 
strangled  over  it,  and  sat  up,  gasping  and  white.  It  was 
Tula  who  offered  her  a  cup  of  water,  while  Valencia,  with 
fervent  expressions  of  gratitude  to  the  saints,  got  to  her 
feet,  eyeing  Rotil  with  a  look  of  fear.  After  the  wounded 
priest  and  the  fainting  Jocasta  emerged  from  the  chapel 
door,  the  two  women  were  filled  with  terror  of  the  con 
trolling  spirit  there. 

He  halted  on  the  threshold,  his  eyes  roving  from  face 
to  face,  including  Tula,  who  stood,  back  against  the  wall, 

288 


THE  STORY  OF  DONA  JOCASTA          289 

regarding  him   as   usual   with   much   admiration.     One 
thing  more  he  must  know. 

"  Go  you  without,"  he  said  with  a  gesture  towards  the 
two  women  and  the  priest.  "  I  will  speak  with  this  lady 
alone." 

They  all  moved  to  the  door,  and  after  a  moment  of 
hesitation  Tula  was  about  to  follow  when  he  stopped 
her. 

"  You  stay,  girl.  The  Doiia  Jocasta  may  want  a  maid, 
but  take  yourself  over  there." 

So  Tula  slipped  silently  back  into  the  niche  of  the  win 
dow  seat  where  the  shadows  were  deepest,  and  Rotil 
moved  towards  the  center  table  dragging  a  chair.  On  the 
other  side  of  the  table  was  the  couch  on  which  Jocasta 
sat,  white  and  startled  at  the  dismissal  of  the  woman  and 
priest. 

"  Be  composed,"  he  said  gentling  his  tone  as  one  would 
to  soothe  a  child.  "  There  are  some  things  to  be  said  be 
tween  us  here,  and  too  many  ears  are  of  no  advantage." 

She  did  not  reply ;  only  inclined  her  head  slightly  and 
drew  herself  upright  against  the  wall,  gathering  the  lace 
rebosa  across  her  bosom  where  Valencia  had  unfastened 
her  garments  and  forgotten  them  in  her  fear. 

"  First  is  the  matter  of  my  debt  to  you.  Do  you  know 
in  your  own  mind  how  great  that  is?" 

"I  —  count  it  as  nothing,  sefior,"  she  murmured. 
'  That  is  because  you  do  not  know  the  great  need,  and 
have  not  made  count  of  the  cases  of  rifles  and  ammuni 
tion." 

"It  is  true,  I  never  looked  at  them.  Juan  Gonsalvo 
in  dying  blamed  Jose  Perez  for  the  shot.  It  was  fired 


290 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

by  another  hand,  —  but  God  alone  knows!  So  Juan  sent 
for  me,  and  Jose  never  knew.  The  secret  of  Soledad  was 
given  to  me  then,  but  I  never  thought  to  use  it,  until " 

She  ceased,  shuddering,  and  he  knew  she  was  think 
ing  of  the  blood-stained  priest  whirled  into  her  presence. 
Fallen  though  the  state  of  the  priesthood  might  be  in 
Mexico,  there  were  yet  women  of  Jocasta's  training  to 
whom  an  assault  on  the  clergy  was  little  less  than  a  mor 
tal  sin.  He  knew  that,  and  smiled  grimly  at  the  remem 
brance  of  her  own  priestly  father  who  had  refused  her 
in  honest  marriage  to  a  man  of  her  mother's  class,  and 
was  busily  engaged  haggling  over  the  gift  price  of  her 
with  Jose  Perez  when  death  caught  him.  The  bewildered 
girl  was  swept  to  the  estate  of  Perez  without  either  mar 
riage  or  gift,  unless  one  choose  to  consider  as  gift  the 
shelter  and  food  given  to  a  younger  sister  and  brother. 

All  this  went  through  his  mind  as  she  shrank  and 
sighed  because  he  had  tossed  a  priest  from  his  way  with 
as  slight  regard  as  he  would  the  poorest  peon.  She  did 
not  even  know  how  surely  the  destiny  of  her  mother  and 
her  own  destiny  had  been  formed  by  a  priest's  craft.  She 
would  never  know,  because  her  mind  would  refuse  to 
accept  it.  There  were  thousands  like  her  because  of  their 
shadowed  inheritance.  Revolution  for  the  men  grew 
out  of  that  bondage  of  women,  and  Rotil  had  isolated 
moments  when  he  dreamed  of  a  vast  and  blessed  free 
dom  of  the  land  —  schools,  and  schools,  and  more  schools 
until  knowledge  would  belong  to  the  people  instead  of  to 
the  priests ! 

But  he  knew  it  was  no  use  to  tell  thoughts  like  that  to 
women;  they  were  afraid  to  let  go  their  little  wooden 


THE  STORY  OF  DONA  JOCASTA          291 

saints  and  the  jargon  of  prayers  they  did  not  understand. 
The  mystery  of  it  held  them! 

Thus  brooded  Rotil,  unlearned  driver  of  burros  and 
general  of  an  army  of  the  people! 

"We  will  forget  all  but  the  ammunition/'  he  said. 
"  It  is  as  food  to  my  men,  and  some  of  them  are  starv 
ing  there  to  the  east;  with  ammunition  food  can  be  com 
mandeered.  I  knew  the  guns  were  on  Soledad  land,  but 
even  a  golden  dream  of  angels  would  not  have  let  me 
hope  for  as  much  as  you  have  given  me.  It  is  packed,  — 
that  room,  from  floor  to  roof  tiles.  In  the  morning  I  take 
the  trail,  and  there  is  much  to  be  done  before  I  go.  You ; 
—  I  must  think  of  first.  Will  you  let  me  be  your  con 
fessor,  and  tell  me  any  wish  of  your  heart  I  may  help  you 
to?" 

"My  heart  has  no  wish  left  alive  in  it,"  she  said. 
"There  have  been  days  when  I  had  wish  for  the  hut 
under  the  palms  where  my  mother  lived.  A  childish 
wish,  —  but  other  wishes  are  dead!" 

"  There  is  no  going  back,"  he  said,  staring  at  the  tiles, 
and  not  looking  at  her.  "  It  is  of  future  things  we  must 
think.  He  said  things  —  Perez  did,  and  you  — — " 

"  Yes ! "  she  half  whispered.  "  There  is  no  way  but  to 
tell  of  it,  but — I  would  ask  that  the  child  wait  outside. 
The  story  is  not  a  story  for  a  girl  child,  Ramon." 

He  motioned  to  Tula. 

"  Outside  the  door,  but  in  call,"  he  said,  and  without 
a  word  or  look  Tula  went  softly  out. 

There  was  silence  for  a  bit  between  them,  her  hands 
were  clasped  at  full  length,  and  she  leaned  forward  pain 
fully  tense,  looking  not  at  him,  but  past  him. 


292  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

"  It  is  not  easy,  but  you  will  comprehend  better  than 
many,"  she  said  at  last.  "  There  were  three  of  us. 
There  was  my  little  brother  Palemon,  who  ran  away  last 
year  to  be  a  soldier  —  he  was  only  fourteen.  Jose  would 
not  let  me  send  searchers  for  him,  and  he  may  be  dead. 
Then  there  was  only  —  only  Lucita  and  me.  You  maybe 
remember  Lucita?" 

Her  question  was  wistful  as  if  it  would  help  her  to 
even  know  he  remembered.  He  nodded  his  head  in  af 
firmation. 

"A  golden  child,"  he  said.  "I  have  seen  pictured 
saints  and  angels  in  great  churches  since  the  days  in 
the  hills,  but  never  once  so  fair  a  child  as  little  Lucita." 

"  Yes,  white  and  gold,  and  an  angel  of  innocence,"  she 
said  musingly.  "Always  she  was  that,  always!  And 
there  was  a  sweetheart,  Mariano  Avila,  a  good  lad,  and 
the  wedding  was  to  be.  She  was  embroidering  the  wed 
ding  shirt  for  Mariano  when  —  God!  God!" 

She  got  up  suddenly  and  paced  the  floor,  her  arms  hug 
ging  her  shoulders  tight  as  if  to  keep  from  sobbing.  He 
rose  and  stood  watching,  but  uttered  no  word. 

After  a  little  she  returned  to  the  couch,  and  began  to 
speak  in  a  more  even  tone. 

"There  is  so  much  to  tell.  Much  happened.  Conrad 
was  driving  Jose  to  do  many  things  not  at  first  in  their 
plans.  Also  there  was  more  drinking,  —  much  more!  It 
was  Conrad  made  plans  for  the  slave  raids.  He  no 
longer  asked  Jose's  permission  for  anything;  he  gave 
command  to  the  men  and  Jose  had  to  listen.  Only  one 
secret  thing  was  yet  hidden  from  him,  the  hiding  place 
of  the  guns  from  the  north.  Jose  said  if  that  was  uncov- 


THE  STORY  OF  DONA  JOCASTA          293 

ered  he  might  as  well  give  up  his  ranches.  In  his  heart 
he  could  not  trust  Conrad.  Each  had  a  watch  set  on 
the  other!  Juan  got  his  death  because  he  made  ren 
dezvous  with  the  German. 

"That  is  how  it  was  when  the  slave  raid  was  made 
north  of  here,  and  the  most  beautiful  Indian  girl  killed 
herself  somewhere  in  this  desert  when  there  was  no 
other  way  to  escape  the  man;  —  the  scar  on  the  face 
of  Conrad  was  from  her  knife.  It  was  a  bad  cut,  and 
after  that  there  was  trouble,  and  much  drink  and  mad 
quarrels.  Also  it  was  that  time  Juan  Gonsalvo  was  shot 
and  died  from  it.  Juana,  his  sister,  came  in  secret  for 
me  while  he  could  yet  speak,  and  that  was  when " 

She  halted,  closing  her  eyes  as  if  to  shut  out  some  hor 
ror.  He  thought  she  shrank  from  remembrance  of  how 
the  secret  of  Soledad  was  given  to  her,  for  Juan  must 
have  been  practically  a  dead  man  when  he  gave  it  up. 
After  a  moment  she  went  on  in  the  sad  tone  of  the  ut 
terly  hopeless. 

"  I  speak  of  the  mad  quarrels  of  those  two  men,  Ramon, 
but  it  was  never  of  that  I  had  fear.  The  fear  came  each 
time  the  quarrel  was  done,  and  they  again  swore  to  be 
friends,  for  in  the  new '  friend  hours '  of  drinking,  strange 
things  happened,  strange  wagers  and  strange  gifts." 

Again  she  paused,  and  this  time  she  lifted  her  eyes  to 
Rotil. 

"  Always  I  hated  the  German.  I  never  carried  a  blade 
until  after  his  eyes  followed  me!  He  tried  to  play  the 
prince,  the  great  gentleman,  with  me  —  a  girl  of  the  hills! 
Only  once  he  touched  my  hand,  and  I  scoured  it  with  sand 
afterwards  while  Jose  laughed.  But  the  German  did 


294  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

not  laugh,  —  he  only  watched  me !  Once  when  Jose  was 
in  a  rage  with  me  Conrad  said  he  could  make  of  me  a 
great  lady  in  his  own  land  if  I  would  listen.  Instead  of 
listening  I  showed  him  my  knife.  After  that  God  only 
knows  what  he  told  against  me,  but  Jose  became  bitter 
— bitter,  and  jealous,  and  spies  always  at  my  back! 

"So  Lucita  and  Mariano  and  I  made  plans.  They 
were  to  marry,  and  we  three  would  steal  away  in  secret 
and  cross  the  border.  That  was  happiness  to  plan,  for 
my  life  —  my  life  was  hell,  so  I  thought!  But  I  had 
not  yet  learned  what  hell  could  be,"  she  confessed 
drearily. 

"Tell  me,"  he  said  very  gently.  Those  who  thought 
they  knew  "El  Gavilan,"  the  merciless,  would  not  have 
recognized  his  voice  at  that  moment. 

"No,  I  had  not  learned,"  she  went  on  drearily.  "I 
thought  that  to  carry  a  knife  for  myself  made  all  safe — 
I  did  not  know!  I  told  you  Juana  Gonsalvo  came  for 
me  very  secretly  to  hear  the  last  words  of  Juan.  But 
I  did  not  tell  you  we  lived  in  the  casita,  little  Lucita 
and  I.  It  is  across  a  garden  from  the  hacienda,  and  was 
once  a  priest's  house ;  that  was  in  the  days  of  the  mother 
of  Jose.  It  is  very  sweet  there  under  the  rose  vines, 
and  it  was  sanctuary  for  us.  When  Jose  and  the  Ger 
man  had  their  nights  of  carouse  we  went  there  and  locked 
ourselves  in.  There  were  iron  bars  on  the  high  win 
dows,  and  shutters  of  wood  inside,  so  we  were  never 
afraid.  I  heard  Conrad  tell  Jose  he  was  a  fool  not  to 
blow  it  up  with  dynamite  some  day  of  fiesta.  It  was 
the  night  after  their  great  quarrel,  and  it  was  a  terrible 
time.  They  were  pledging  friendship  once  more  in  much 


THE  STORY  OF  DONA  JOCASTA          295 

wine.  Officers  from  the  town  were  at  the  hacienda  with 
women  who  were — well,  I  would  not  go  in,  and  Jose 
was  wild.  He  came  to  the  casita  and  called  threats  at 
me.  I  thought  the  German  was  with  him,  for  he  said 
Conrad  was  right,  and  the  house  would  be  blown  up 
with  the  first  dynamite  he  could  spare,  —  but  threats  were 
no  new  thing  to  us!  I  tried  to  soothe  little  Lucita  by 
talk  of  the  wedding,  and  all  the  pretty  bride  things  were 
taken  out  of  the  chest  and  spread  on  the  bed;  one 
rebosa  of  white  I  put  over  her  shoulders,  and  the  child 

was  dancing  to  show  me  she  was  no  longer  afraid ! 

"  That  was  when  Juana  came  to  the  window.  I  knew 
her  voice  and  opened  the  door.  I  did  not  want  Lucita 
frightened  again,  so  I  did  not  let  her  know  a  man  was 
dying  —  only  that  a  sick  person  wanted  me  for  a  little 

—  little  minute,  and  I  would  be  back. 

"  I  knew  Juan  Gonsalvo  had  been  killed  because  he 
had  been  trusted  far  enough,  —  I  knew  it !  That  thought 
struck  me  very  hard,  for  I  —  I  might  be  the  next,  and 
I  wanted  first  to  send  those  two  children  happily  out  of 
reach  of  sorrow.  Strange  it  is  that  because  she  was 
first,  the  very  first  in  my  heart,  I  w«nt  out  that  door 
in  the  night  and  for  the  first  time  lef^her  alone!  But 
that  is  how  it  was;  we  had  to  be  so  quick  —  and  so  silent 

—  and  it  was  her  hand  closed  the  door  after  us,  her  hand 
on  the  bolt ! 

"Juan  Gonsalvo  had  only  fought  for  life  until  he  could 
see  me,  and  then  the  breath  went.  No  one  but  I  heard 
his  whispers  of  the  door  of  the  picture  here  in  Soledad/ 
He  told  me  his  death  was  murder,  and  his  last  word  was 
against  Perez.  It  was  only  minutes,  little  minutes  I  was 


296 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

there,  and  the  way  was  not  far,  but  when  I  went  back 
through  the  garden  the  door  of  the  casita  stood  wide 
and  light  streamed  out !  I  do  not  know  how  I  was  sure 
it  was  empty,  but  I  was,  and  I  seemed  to  go  dead  inside, 
though  I  started  to  run. 

"  To  cross  that  garden  was  like  struggling  in  a  dream 
with  bands  about  my  feet.  I  wake  with  that  dream  many 
nights  —  many !  —  I  heard  her  before  I  could  reach  the 
path.  Her  screams  were  not  in  the  casita,  but  in  the 
hacienda.  They  were  —  they  were  —  terrible!  I  tried 
to  go  —  and  then  I  knew  she  had  broken  away  —  I  could 
see  her  like  a  white  spirit  fly  back  towards  the  light  in 
the  open  door.  The  man  following  her  tripped  in  some 
way  and  fell,  and  I  leaped  over  him  to  follow  her.  We 
got  inside  and  drew  the  bolt. 

"Then —  But  there  are  things  not  to  be  told  — 
they  belong  to  the  dead ! 

"  Perez  came  there  to  the  door  and  made  demands 
for  Conrad's  woman,  —  that  is  how  he  said  it!  He  said 
she  had  gone  to  Conrad's  apartment  of  her  own  will  and 
must  go  back.  Lucita  knelt  at  my  feet  in  her  torn  bridal 
garment  and  told  .how  a  woman  had  come  as  Juana  had 
come,  and  said  V.hat  I  wanted  her.  The  child  had  no 
doubt,  she  followed,  and  —  and  it  was  indeed  to  that 
drunken  beast  they  took  her ! 

"Jose  was  also  drunk,  crazy  drunk.  He  told  me  to 
stand  away  from  that  door  for  they  were  coming  in, 
also  that  he  had  made  gift  of  Lucita  to  his  friend,  and 
she  must  be  given  up.  Then  they  began  to  fire  guns 
in  the  lock !  It  seemed  a  long,  long  time  she  held  to  me 
there  and  begged  me  to  save  her,  but  it  could  not  have 


THE  STORY  OF  DONA  JOCASTA          297 

been.  .  .  .  The  lock  gave  way,  and  only  the  bolt 
held.  I  clasped  her  close  to  me  and  whispered  telling  her 
to  pray,  but  I  never  took  my  eyes  off  the  door.  When  I 
saw  it  shaking,  I  made  the  sign  of  the  cross  over  her, 
and  the  knife  I  had  carried  for  myself  found  her  heart 
quickly !  That  is  how  I  took  on  me  the  shadow  of  mur 
der,  and  that  is  why  the  priest  threatens  me  with  the 
fires  of  hell  if  I  do  not  repent  —  and  I  am  not  repent 
ing,  Ramon/' 

"  By  God,  no ! "  he  muttered,  staring  into  her  defiant 
eyes.  "  That  was  a  fine  thing,  and  your  mother  gave  good 
blood  to  her  children,  Jocasta.  And  then ?" 

"  I  laid  her  on  the  bed  among  her  bridal  laces,  all 
white  —  white!  Over  her  breast  I  folded  her  still  hands, 
and  set  a  candle  at  her  head,  though  I  dared  not  pray ! 
The  door  was  giving  way. 

"I  pushed  back  the  bolt,  also  I  spoke,  but  it  did  not 
seem  me !  That  is  strange,  but  of  a  truth  I  did  not  know 
the  voice  I  heard  say:  'Enter,  her  body  is  yours  —  and 
she  no  longer  flees  from  you.' 

"'Ha!  That  is  good  sense  at  last!'  said  Jose,  and 
Conrad  laughed  and  praised  himself  as  a  lover. 

' '  I  told  you  so ! '  he  grunted.  '  The  little  dear  one 
knows  that  a  nice  white  German  is  not  so  bad ! ' 

"  And  again  I  heard  the  voice  strange  to  me  say,  '  She 
knows  nothing,  Jose  —  and  she  knows  all!' 

"Jose  stumbled  in  smiling,  but  Conrad,  though  drunk, 
stopped  at  the  door  when  he  saw  my  hand  with  the  knife. 
I  thought  my  skirt  covered  it  as  I  waited  for  him  —  for 
the  child  had  told  me  enough—  I  —  I  failed,  Ramon! 
His  oath  was  a  curious  choked  scream  as  I  tried  to  reach 


298 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

him.  I  do  not  know  if  it  was  the  knife,  or  the  dead  girl 
on  the  bed  made  him  scream  like  that,  but  I  knew  then 
the  German  was  at  heart  a  coward. 

"Jose  was  too  strong  for  me,  and  the  knife  could  not 
do  its  work.  I  was  struck,  and  my  head  muffled  in  a 
serape.  After  that  I  knew  nothing. 

"  Days  and  nights  went  by  in  a  locked  room.  I  never 
got  out  of  it  until  I  was  chained  hand  and  foot  and 
sent  north  in  a  peon's  ox-cart.  Men  guarded  me  until 
Marto  with  other  men  waited  for  me  on  the  trail.  Jose 
Perez  could  have  had  me  killed,  yes.  Or  he  could  have 
had  me  before  the  judges  for  murder,  but  silence  was 
the  thing  he  most  wanted — for  there  is  Dona  Dolores 
Terain  yet  to  be  won.  He  has  sent  me  north  that  the 
General  Terain,  her  father,  will  think  me  out  of  his  life. 
One  of  the  guards  told  an  alcalde  I  was  his  wife,  he  was 
sure  that  story  would  be  repeated  back  to  Hermosillo! 
These  are  days  in  Sonora  when  nq  one  troubles  about  one 
woman  or  one  child  who  is  out  of  sight,  and  we  may  be 
sure  he  and  Conrad  had  a  well-made  story  to  tell.  He 
knows  it  is  now  all  over  with  me,  that  I  have  a  hate  of 
which  he  is  afraid,  so  he  does  not  have  me  shot ;  —  he  only 
sends  me  to  Soledad  in  the  wilderness  where  fighting  bands 
of  the  revolution  cross  all  trails,  and  his  men  have  orders 
that  I  am  not  to  go  out  of  the  desert  alive." 

"I  see!"  said  Rotil  thoughtfully,  "and  —  it  is  all  gone 
now  —  the  love  of  him?" 

"All  the  love  in  the  world  is  gone,  amigo,"  she  said, 
looking  away  from  him  through  the  barred  window 
where  the  night  sky  was  growing  bright  from  the  rising 
moon.  "I  was  a  child  enchanted  by  the  glory  of  the 


THE  STORY  OF  DONA  JOCASTA          299 

world  and  his  love  words.  Out  of  all  that  false  glitter 
of  life  I  have  walked,  a  blackened  soul  with  a  murderer's 
hand.  How  could  love  be  again  with  me?" 

He  looked  at  her  steadily,  the  slender  thing  of  creamy 
skin  and  Madonna  eyes  that  had  been  the  Dream  of 
Youth  to  him,  the  one  devotee  at  an  altar  in  whom  he  had 
believed  —  nothing  in  the  humanity  of  the  world  would 
ever  have  faith  of  his  again ! 

"That  is  so,  Jocasta,"  he  said  at  last,  "you  are  a 
woman,  and  in  the  shadow.  The  little  golden  singing  one  is 
gone  out  of  your  life,  and  the  new  music  must  be  different ! 
I  will  think  about  that  for  you.  Go  now  to  your  sleep, 
for  there  is  work  of  men  to  be  done,  and  the  night  scarce 
long  enough  for  it." 

He  opened  the  door  for  her  and  stood  with  bent  head 
as  she  passed.  His  men  lounging  in  the  patio  could  see 
that  manner  of  deference,  and  exchanged  looks  and  com 
ments.  To  the  victor  belong  the  spoils  in  Mexico,  and 
here  was  a  sweeping  victory,  —  yet  the  general  looked  the 
other  way! 

"  Child,  accompany  the  sefiora,"  he  said  kindly  to  Tula 
at  the  door.  "  Chappo,  bring  Marto  to  see  me.  The  new 
American  capitan  said  he  was  a  man  of  value,  and  the 
lad  was  right.  Work  of  importance  waits  for  him  to 
night." 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

RAMON  ROTIL  DECIDES 

WHATEVER  the  labors  of  Marto  Cavayso  for  the 
night  they  appeared  to  have  been  happy  ones,  for 
ere  the  dawn  he  came  to  Kit's  door  in  great  good  humor. 

"  Amigo,"  he  said  jovially,  "you  played  me  a  trick  and 
took  the  woman,  but  what  the  devil  is  that  to  hold  a 
grudge  for?  My  general  has  made  it  all  right,  and  we 
need  help.  You  are  to  come." 

"  Glad  to,"  agreed  Kit,  "  but  what  of  this  guard  duty?  " 

"  Lock  the  door  —  there  is  but  one  key.  Also  the  other 
men  are  not  sleeping  inside  the  portal.  It  is  by  order  of 
General  Rotil." 

Perez  awoke  to  glare  at  his  false  major-domo,  but 
uttered  no  words.  He  had  not  even  attempted  conversa 
tion  with  Kit  since  the  evening  before  when  he  stated 
that  no  Americano  could  fool  him,  and  added  his  con 
viction  that  the  said  Americano  was  a  secret  service  man 
of  the  states  after  the  guns,  and  that  Rotil  was  a  fool ! 

Kit  found  Rotil  resting  in  the  chapel,  looking  fagged 
and  spent. 

"  Marto  is  hell  for  work,  and  I  had  to  stay  by,"  he 
grumbled  with  a  grin.  "Almost  I  sent  for  you.  No 
other  man  knows,  and  behold ! " 

Stacked  on  either  side  were  packing  cases  of  rifles  and 

300 


RAMON  ROTIL  DECIDES 301 

ammunition,  dozens  and  dozens  of  them.  The  dusty 
canvas  was  back  in  its  place  and  no  sign  to  indicate 
where  the  cases  had  come  from. 

"  It  is  a  great  treasure  chest,  that,"  stated  Rotil,  "  and 
we  have  here  as  much  as  the  mules  can  carry,  for  the 
wagons  can't  go  with  us.  But  I  want  every  case  of  this 
outside  the  portal  before  dawn  comes,  and  it  comes  quick ! 
It  means  work  and  there  are  only  three  of  us,  and  this 
limp  of  mine's  a  trouble." 

"Well,"  said  Kit,  stripping  off  his  coat,  "if  the  two 
of  you  got  them  up  a  ladder  inside,  and  down  the  steps 
to  this  point  I  reckon  three  of  us  can  get  them  across 
that  little  level  on  record  time.  Say,  your  crew  will 
think  it  magic  when  guns  and  ammunition  are  let  fall  for 
you  by  angels  outside  of  the  gate." 

"The  thought  will  do  no  harm,"  said  Rotil.  "Also 
I  am  not  sure  but  that  you  speak  true,  and  the  magic  was 
much  needed  when  it  came." 

They  worked  fast,  and  ere  the  first  hint  of  dawn  the 
cases  were  stacked  in  imposing  array  on  the  plaza.  And 
no  sign  by  which  they  could  be  traced.  Rotil  looked  at 
them,  and  chuckled  at  the  wonder  the  men  would  feel. 

"  It  is  time  they  were  called,  for  it  is  a  long  trail,  go 
you,  Capitan,  and  waken  them,  tell  them  to  get  ready 
the  pack  mules  and  get  a  move/' 

"All  right,  but  if  they  ask  questions?" 

"  Look  wise  and  say  nothing !  When  they  see  the  cases 
they  will  think  you  either  the  devil  or  San  Antonio  to 
find  what  was  lost  in  the  desert.  It  is  a  favor  I  am  doing 
you,  sefior." 

"Sure  you  are!    If  the  Indians  ever  get  the  idea  that 


302  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

I  can  win  guns  from  out  the  air  by  hokus-pokus,  I  will 
be  a  big  medicine  chief,  and  wax  fat  under  honors  in 
Sonora.  Head  me  to  them ! " 

Rotil  had  seen  to  it  that  though  sentinels  stood  guard 
at  Soledad,  none  were  near  enough  the  plaza  to  interfere 
with  work  of  the  night,  and  Kit  found  their  main  camp 
down  by  the  acquia  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away.  He  gave 
orders  as  directed  for  the  pack  animals  and  cook  wagon 
over  which  a  son  of  the  Orient  presided.  That  stolid 
genius  was  already  slicing  deer  meat  for  broiling,  and 
making  coffee,  of  which  he  donated  a  bowl  to  Kit,  also 
a  cart  wheel  of  a  tortilla  dipped  in  gravy.  Both  were 
joyously  accepted,  and  after  seeing  that  the  men  were 
aroused  from  the  blankets,  he  returned  to  the  hacienda 
full  of  conjecture  as  to  the  developments  to  be  anticipated 
from  the  night's  work.  That  reserve  stock  of  ammuni 
tion  might  mean  salvation  to  the  revolutionists. 

Rain  had  fallen  somewhere  to  the  east  in  the  night 
time,  and  as  the  stars  faded  there  were  lines  of  palest 
silver  and  palest  gold  in  the  grays  of  dawn  on  the  moun 
tains.  As  he  walked  leisurely  up  the  slight  natural  ter 
race  to  the  plaza,  he  halted  a  moment  and  laughed  aloud 
boyishly  at  a  discovery  of  his,  for  he  had  solved  the  cen 
tury-old  riddle  of  the  view  of  El  Alisal  seen  from  the 
"portal"  of  Soledad.  The  portal  was  not  anyone  of 
the  visible  doors  or  gateways  of  the  old  mission,  it  was 
the  hidden  portal  of  the  picture,  —  once  leading  to  a  little 
balcony  under  which  the  neophytes  had  gathered  for  the 
morning  blessing  and  daily  commands  of  their  superiors ! 

That  explained  its  height  from  the  floor.  The  door  had 
at  some  later  period  been  sealed,  and  a  room  built  against 


RAMON  ROTIL  DECIDES 303 

it  from  the  side  towards  the  mountain.  In  the  building 
of  the  ranch  house  that  old  strong  walled  section  of  the 
mission  had  been  incorporated  as  the  private  chapel  of 
some  pious  ranchero.  It  was  also  very,  very  simple  after 
one  knew  of  that  high  portal  masked  by  the  picture,  and 
after  one  traced  the  line  of  vision  from  the  outside  and 
realized  all  that  was  hidden  by  the  old  harness  room  and 
the  fragmentary  old  walls  about  it.  He  chuckled  to  think 
of  how  he  would  astonish  Cap  Pike  with  the  story  when 
he  got  back.  He  also  recalled  that  Conrad  had  un 
burdened  his  heart  to  him  with  completeness  because  he 
was  so  confident  an  American  never  could  get  back ! 

He  was  speculating  on  that  ever-present  problem  when 
he  noted  that  light  shone  yellow  in  the  dawn  from  the 
plaza  windows,  and  on  entering  the  patio  it  took  but  a 
glance  to  see  that  some  new  thing  was  afoot. 

Padre  Andreas,  with  his  head  upholstered  in  strips  of 
the  table  linen,  was  pacing  the  patio  reciting  in  a  mur 
muring  undertone,  some  prayer  from  a  small  open  vol 
ume,  though  there  was  not  yet  light  enough  to  read. 
Valencia  was  bustling  into  the  room  of  Dona  Jocasta  with 
an  olla  of  warm  water,  while  Tula  bore  a  copper  tray 
with  fruit  and  coffee. 

"This  is  of  a  quickness,  but  who  dare  say  it  is  not 
an  act  for  the  blessing  of  God?"  the  padre  said  replying 
in  an  absent-minded  manner  to  the  greeting  of  Kit. 

"True,  Padre,  who  can  say?"  agreed  the  latter  po 
litely,  without  the  slightest  idea  of  what  was  meant. 

But  Marto,  who  fairly  radiated  happiness  since  his  re 
instatement,  approached  with  the  word  that  General  Rotil 
\vould  have  him  at  breakfast,  for  which  time  was  short. 


304  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

"  It  is  my  regret  that  you  do  not  ride  with  me,  senor," 
said  Rotil  as  he  motioned  him  to  a  seat.  "  But  there  is 
work  to  be  done  at  Soledad  for  which  I  shall  give  you 
the  word.  I  am  hearing  that  you  would  help  recover 
some  of  the  poor  ones  driven  south  from  Palomitas,  if 
they  be  left  alive ! " 

"  I  am  pledged  to  that,  General,"  stated  Kit  simply. 

"Who  has  your  pledge ?" 

"  A  dead  man  who  cannot  free  me  from  it." 

"  By  God ! "  remarked  Rotil  in  a  surprised  tone.  "  By 
God,  Don  Pajarito,  that  is  good !  And  it  may  be  when 
that  pledge  is  kept,  you  may  be  free  to  join  my  children 
in  the  fight?  I  make  you  a  capitan  at  once,  sefior." 

"Perhaps,  after " 

"Sure,  —  after,"  agreed  Rotil  chuckling.  "For  I  tell 
you  there  is  work  of  importance  here,  and  when  I  am 
gone  the  thinking  will  be  up  to  you !  What  message  did 
you  give  the  muleteers?" 

"To  bring  the  animals  to  the  plaza,  and  pack  for  the 
trail  all  the  provisions  found  there." 

"  Provisions  is  good !  They  will  burn  with  curiosity. 
There  could  be  fun  in  that  if  we  had  time  to  laugh  and 
watch  them,  but  there  is  no  time.  Marto ! " 

Marto,  on  guard  at  the  door,  came  forward. 

"  Has  the  Senor  Don  Jose  Perez  received  my  message 
for  conference?" 

"  Yes,  my  General.  Except  that  he  wished  your  mes 
senger  in  hell,  he  will  be  happy  to  join  you  according  to 
order." 

"Good!"  grinned  Rotil,  "it  is  well  to  conduct  these 
matters  with  grace  and  ceremony  where  a  lady  is  con- 


RAMON  ROTIL  DECIDES 305 

cerned.  Take  him  to  the  sola;  it  is  illuminated  in  his 
honor.  Come,  senor,  I  want  for  witness  an  Americano 
who  is  free  from  Sonora  influence." 

"Am  I?"  queried  Kit  dubiously.  "I'm  not  so  sure! 
I  seem  all  tangled  up  with  Sonora  influences  of  all  shades 
and  varieties." 

Ro til's  jocularity  disappeared  as  he  entered  the  sala 
where  quill  pen  and  ink  and  some  blank  sheets  from  an 
old  account  book  gave  a  business-like  look  to  the  table 
where  four  candles  made"  a  radiance. 

Perez  was  there,  plainly  nervous  by  reason  of  the 
mocking  civility  of  Marto.  His  eyes  followed  Rotil, — 
questioning,  fearful! 

The  latter  passed  him  without  notice  and  seated  him 
self  at  the  table. 

"Call  the  padre,"  he  said  to  Marto.  But  that  was 
scarce  needed  as  the  padre  was  hovering  near  the  door 
waiting  for  the  word.  He  seated  himself  by  the  table 
at  a  motion  from  Rotil. 

The  latter  turned  for  the  first  time  to  Perez,  and  be 
stowed  on  him  a  long,  curious  look. 

"  They  tell  me,  senor,  that  you  were  about  to  take  as 
bride  a  lovely  lady?" 

Perez  frowned  in  perplexity.  Evidently  this  was  the 
last  subject  he  had  expected  to  hear  touched  upon. 

"Perhaps  so,"  he  said  at  last,  "but  if  this  is  a  ques 
tion  of  ransom  we  will  not  trouble  the  lady.  I  will  ar 
range  your  figures  for  that." 

"This  is  not  a  matter  of  figures,  Senor  Perez.  It  is 
a  marriage  we  are  interested  in,  and  it  is  all  well  ar 
ranged  for  you.  The  padre  here  will  draw  up  the  con- 


306 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

tract  of  marriage  in  the  old  form;  it  is  better  than  the 
manner  of  today.  You  will  give  him  your  name,  the 
names  of  your  parents,  the  name  of  your  parish  and 
abode." 

"I  will  see  you  damned  first!" 

"  And,  Padre,"  continued  Rotil,  giving  no  heed  to  that 
heartfelt  remark,  "use  less  than  one-third  of  the  page, 
for  there  must  be  space  for  the  record  of  the  bride,  and 
below  that  the  contract  between  the  happy  two  with  all 
witnesses  added." 

"If  you  think  — "  began  Perez  furiously. 

"  I  do  not  think ;  I  know,  senor !  Later  you  also  will 
know,"  Rotil  promised  with  grim  certainty.  "  This  mar 
riage  is  of  interest  to  me,  and  has  been  too  long  delayed. 
It  is  now  for  you  to  say  if  you  will  be  a  bridegroom  in 
chains,  or  if  it  please  you  to  have  the  irons  off." 

"This  cannot  be!  I  tell  you  a  marriage  is  not  legal 
if " 

"  Oh,  senor !  Your  experience  is  less  than  I  thought," 
interrupted  Rotil,  "and  you  are  much  mistaken,  —  much! 
We  are  all  witnesses  here.  Senor  Rhodes  will  be  pleased 
to  unfasten  those  heavy  chains  to  oblige  the  lady.  The 
chains  might  not  be  a  pleasant  memory  to  her.  Women 
have  curious  prejudices  about  such  things!  But  it  must 
be  understood  that  you  stand  quiet  for  the  ceremony. 
If  not,  this  gun  of  mine  will  manage  it  that  you  stay 
quiet  forever." 

Perez  stood  up,  baffled  and  beaten,  but  threatening. 

"Take  them  off,  you!"  he  snarled,  "though  it  is  a 
hell  of  a  ransom,  —  and  that  woman  will  pay.  Let  no 
one  forget  that  her  pay  will  be  heavy ! " 


RAMON  ROTIL  DECIDES  307 

"  That  paying  is  for  afterwards ! "  decided  Rotil  airily, 
"but  here  and  now  we  men  would  see  a  wedding  before 
we  leave  Soledad.  Capitan  Rhodes,  will  you  bring  in 
Dona  Jocasta?" 

Kit,  in  some  wonder,  went  on  the  errand,  and  found 
the  women  eager  to  deck  her  with  blossoms  and  give  some 
joyous  note  to  the  wedding  of  the  dawn,  but  she  sat  cold 
and  white  with  the  flowers  of  the  desert  springtime  about 
her,  and  forbade  them. 

"He  terrifies  me  much  in  sending  that  word  to  wake 
me  with  this  morning,"  she  protested.  "  I  tell  you  I  will 
kill  myself  before  I  live  one  more  day  of  life  with  Jose 
Perez !  I  told  him  all  my  heart  in  the  sala  last  night,  and 
it  means  not  anything  to  Ramon  Rotil ;  —  he  would  tie  me 
in  slavery  to  that  man  I  hate ! " 

"  Senora,  I  do  not  know  what  the  general  means,  but 
I  know  it  is  not  that.  His  work  is  for  your  service,  even 
though  appearance  is  otherwise/' 

"You  think  that?" 

"  I  almost  know  it." 

"Then  I  go,"  she  decided.  "I  think  I  would  have  to 
go  anyway,  but  the  heart  would  be  more  heavy,  Santa 
Maria!  —  but  this  place  of  Soledad  is  strange  in  its  ways." 

It  was  the  first  time  he  had  seen  her  frightened,  but  her 
mouth  trembled,  and  her  eyes  sought  the  floor. 

He  reached  out  and  took  her  hand;  it  was  terribly 
cold. 

"Courage,  and  trust  Rotil,"  he  said  reassuringly. 
"  When  you  sift  out  the  whole  situation  that  is  about  all 
left  to  any  of  us  here  in  the  desert." 

He  led  her  along  the  corridor,  the  women  following. 


308  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

Men  with  pack  animals  were  gathering  in  wonder  around 
the  cases  in  the  plaza,  and  through  the  portal  they  saw 
the  impromptu  bridal  procession,  and  fell  silent.  The 
Americano  appeared  to  have  a  hand  in  every  game,  —  and 
that  was  a  matter  of  wonder. 

As  they  entered,  Padre  Andreas  was  reading  aloud  the 
brief  history  of  Jocasta  Benicia  Sandoval,  eldest  daugh 
ter  of  Teresa  Sandoval  and  Ignatius  Sanchez  of  Santa 
Ysobel  in  the  Sierras.  Padre  Andreas  had  balked  at 
writing  the  paternity  of  children  of  Teresa  Sandoval,  but 
a  revolver  in  Rotil's  hand  was  the  final  persuader. 

'  This  is  to  be  all  an  honest  record  for  which  there  are 
witnesses, in  plenty,"  he  stated.  "Teresa  Sandoval  had 
only  one  lover,  —  even  though  Padre  Ignatius  Sanchez 
did  call  her  daughters  nieces  of  his!  But  the  marriage 
record  of  Senora  Jocasta  Sandoval  shall  have  only 
truth. "  Jocasta  wrote  her  name  to  the  state 
ment  as  directed,  and  noted  that  Jose  had  already 
signed. 

She  did  not  look  at  him,  but  moved  nearer  to  Rotil  and 
kept  her  eyes  on  the  table.  He  noted  her  shrinking  and 
turned  to  the  priest. 

"  Senor,"  he  said,  "  these  two  people  will  write  their 
names  together  on  the  contract,  but  this  is  a  marriage 
without  kisses  or  clasping  of  hands.  It  is  a  civil  contract 
bound  by  word  of  mouth,  and  written  promise,  under 
witness  of  the  church.  Read  the  service/* 

There  was  a  slight  hesitation  on  the  part  of  Perez  when 
asked  if  he  would  take  Jocasta  Sandoval  as  wife,  but  the 
gun  of  Rotil  hastened  his  decision,  and  his  voice  was  de 
fiantly  loud.  Jocasta  followed  quietly,  and  then  in  a 


RAMON  ROTIL  DECIDES 309 

benediction  which  was  emptiest  mockery,  Jose  Perez  and 
Jocasta  Sandoval  were  pronounced  man  and  wife. 

"  May  I  now  go? "  she  murmured,  but  the  contract  was 
signed  by  all  present  before  Rotil  nodded  to  Kit. 

"You  will  have  the  honor  of  conducting  the  Dona 
Jocasta  Perez  to  breakfast,"  he  said.  "The  rest  of  us 
have  other  business  here.  Senora,  will  you  do  us  the 
favor  to  outline  to  this  gentleman  the  special  tasks  you 
would  like  attention  given  at  once.  There  are  some  In 
dian  slaves  in  the  south  for  whom  the  Palomitas  people 
ask  help.  You  are  now  in  a  position  to  be  of  service  there, 
and  it  would  be  a  good  act  with  which  to  establish  a  new 
rule  at  Soledad." 

"Thanks,  General  Rotil,"  she  answered,  rather  be 
wildered  by  the  swiftness  with  which  he  turned  over  to 
her  the  duties  devolving  upon  her  newly  acquired  posi 
tion.  "  I  am  not  wise  in  law,  but  what  I  can  I  will  do." 

"  And  that  will  be  nothing ! "  volunteered  Perez.  "  A 
woman  of  my  name  will  not  make  herself  common  in  the 
markets  or  law  courts,  —  to  have  her  Indian  ancestry  cast 
in  my  teeth!" 

"  As  to  that,"  said  Rotil  humorously,  "  there  is  not  so 
much !  The  father  of  Teresa  Sandoval  was  the  priestly 
son  of  a  marquise  of  Spain !  only  one  drop  of  Indian  to 
three  of  the  church  in  the  veins  of  Senora  Perez,  so  you 
perceive  she  has  done  honor  to  your  house.  You  will 
leave  your  name  in  good  hands  when  God  calls  you  to 
judgment." 

Kit  noted  the  sudden  tension  of  Perez  at  the  last  sen 
tence,  and  a  look  of  furtive,  fearful  questioning  in  his 
eyes  as  he  looked  at  Rotil,  who  was  folding  the  marriage 


310 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

contract  carefully,  wrapping  it  in  a  sheet  of  paper  for 
lack  of  an  envelope. 

But,  as  squire  of  dames,  Kit  was  too  much  occupied 
to  give  further  heed  to  business  in  the  sala.  Dona 
Jocasta  expressed  silently  a  desire  to  get  away  from  there 
as  soon  as  might  be ;  she  looked  white  and  worn,  and  cast 
at  Rotil  a  frightened  imploring  glance  as  she  clung  to 
Kit's  arm.  He  thought  he  would  have  to  carry  her 
before  they  crossed  the  patio. 

"When  Ramon  laughs  like  that  — "  she  began  and 
then  went  silent,  shuddering.  Kit,  remembering  the  look 
in  the  eyes  of  Perez,  did  not  care  to  ask  questions. 

The  older  women  went  back  to  the  kitchen  to  finish 
breakfast  and  gossip  over  the  amazing  morning,  but  Tula 
remained  near  Dona  Jocasta,  —  seeing  all  and  her  ears 
ever  open. 

Padre  Andreas  followed,  under  orders  from  Rotil,  who 
told  him  to  do  any  writing  required  of  him  by  the  Sefiora 
Perez,  and  arrange  for  safe  couriers  south  when  she 
had  messages  ready.  His  knowledge  of  villages  and 
rancheros  was  more  dependable  than  that  of  the  vaqueros ; 
he  would  know  the  names  of  safe  men. 

Dona  Jocasta  sighed,  and  looked  from  one  to  the  other 
appeal  ingly. 

"It  is  much,  very  much  to  plan  for  before  the  sun 
is  showing,"  she  murmured.  "Is  there  not  some  little 
time  to  think  and  consider  ?  " 

"  Even  now  the  men  of  Ramon  Rotil  are  packing  the 
beasts  for  the  trail,"  said  the  priest,  "and  he  wants  all 
your  plans  and  desires  stated  before  he  goes  east." 

"My  desires!"  and  her  smile  held  bitterness  as  she 


RAMON  ROTIL  DECIDES  311 

turned  to  Kit.  "You,  senor,  have  never  seen  the  extent 
of  the  Perez  holdings  in  Sonora.  They  are  so  vast  that 
one  simple  woman  like  me  would  be  lost  in  any  plans  of 
change  there.  Jose  Perez  meant  what  he  said;  —  no 
woman  can  take  control  while  he  lives." 

"  Still,  there  are  some  things  a  woman  could  do  best," 
ventured  Kit,  "the  things  of  mercy;"  and  he  mentioned 
the  Palomitas  slaves 

"  That  is  true.  Also  I  am  in  debt  for  much  friendship, 
and  this  child  of  Palomitas  must  have  the  thing  she  asks. 
Tell  me  the  best  way." 

"Learn  from  Perez  which  ranch  of  General  Estaban 
Terain  shelters  the  political  prisoners  taken  from  the  dis 
trict  of  Altar,"  suggested  Kit.  "  Either  Perez  or  Conrad 
can  tell." 

Dona  Jocasta  looked  at  the  priest. 

"Jose  Perez  will  hate  you  for  this  marriage,  and  we 
must  seek  safety  for  you  in  some  other  place,"  she  said 
kindly,  "but  you  are  the  one  most  able  to  learn  this 
thing.  Will  it  please  you  to  try?" 

Padre  Andreas  went  out  without  a  word.  In  his  heart 
he  resented  the  manner  of  the  marriage  ceremony,  and 
scarce  hoped  Perez  would  be  acquiescent  or  disposed  to 
further  converse,  and  he  personally  had  no  inclination 
to  ask  help  of  the  General  Rotil. 

He  was  surprised  as  he  crossed  the  patio  to  see  Perez, 
still  free  from  chains,  walking  through  the  portal  to  the 
plaza  with  Marto  Cavayso  beside  him.  He  was  led  past 
the  ammunition  cases,  and  the  men  in  their  jubilant  work 
of  packing  the  mules.  Far  out  up  the  valley  to  the  north 
a  cloud  of  dust  caught  the  red  glow  of  sunrise,  and  the 


312  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

priest  knew  the  vaqueros  with  the  Soledad  cattle  were 
already  on  the  trail  for  the  main  body  of  revolutionists 
in  the  field. 

Saddle  horses  were  held  a  little  apart  in  the  plaza,  and 
Padre  Andreas  hastened  his  steps  lest  they  mount  and  be 
gone,  but  Marto  spoke  to  him  sharply. 

"Walk  in  front  to  do  your  talking,"  he  suggested. 
"This  gentleman  is  not  inviting  company  for  his 
pasear" 

Jose  Perez  turned  a  startled,  piercing  look  on  the  priest. 

"Did  Rotil  send  you?"  he  demanded. 

"  No,  sefior,  I  came  back  to  ask  a  simple  thing  con 
cerning  the  Altar  people  who  went  south  for  Yucatan. 
Can  you  give  me  the  name  of  the  ranch  where  they  are 
held?" 

"  I  can,  —  but  I  give  nothing  for  nothing ! "  he  said  bit 
terly.  "  Already  I  am  caught  in  a  trap  by  that  marriage, 
and  I  will  see  that  the  archbishop  hears  of  your  share 
in  it.  Nothing  for  nothing!" 

"Yet  there  may  be  some  service  I  can  give,  or  send 
south,  for  you,"  said  the  priest. 

Perez  regarded  him  doubtfully. 

"Yes  —  you  might  get  a  message  to  General  Terain 
that  I  am  a  prisoner,  on  my  own  estate — if  Rotil  does 
not  have  you  killed  on  the  road ! " 

" I  could  try,"  agreed  the  priest.    "I  —  I  might  secure 


permission." 
"Permission?" 

u 


It  is  true,  sefior.  I  could  not  attempt  it  without  the 
word  of  General  Rotil,"  announced  Padre  Andreas.  "  Of 
what  use  to  risk  the  life  of  a  courier  for  no  purpose  ?  But 


RAMON  ROTIL  DECIDES  313 

I  make  a  bargain :  if  you  will  tell  which  ranch  the  Altar 
Indians  were  driven  to  I  will  undertake  to  get  word  for 
you  to  a  friend.  Of  course  I  can  get  the  information  from 
the  German  if  you  say  no." 

"  Damn  the  German ! "  swore  Perez. 

"  Good  Father,"  said  Marto,  "  you  halt  us  on  the  way  to 
join  the  advance,  and  we  have  no  mind  to  take  all  the  dust 
of  the  mule  train.  Make  your  talk  of  fewer  words." 

"  Shall  I  go  to  the  German  ?  "  repeated  the  priest. 

"No,  —  let  him  rot  alone!  The  plantation  is  Linda 
Vista,  and  Conrad  lied  to  General  Terain  to  get  them 
housed  there.  He  thought  they  were  rebels  who  raided 
ranches  in  Altar,  —  political  prisoners.  Take  General 
Terain  word  that  I  am  a  prisoner  of  the  revolutionists, 
and " 

"  Senor,  the  sun  is  too  high  for  idle  talk/'  said  Marto 
briefly,  "and  your  saddle  waits." 

The  priest  held  the  stirrup  for  Jose  Perez,  who  took 
the  courtesy  as  a  matter  of  course,  turning  in  the  saddle 
and  casting  a  bitter  look  at  the  sun-flooded  walls  of 
Soledad. 

"To  marry  a  mistress  and  set  her  up  as  the  love  of 
another  lover  —  tivo  other  lovers!  —  is  not  the  game  of 

a  man,"  he  growled  moodily.  "If  it  was  to  do  over, 
j » 

"Take  other  thoughts  with  you,"  said  Padre  Andreas 
sadly,  "  and  my  son,  go  with  God ! " 

He  lifted  his  hand  in  blessing,  and  stood  thus  after 
they  had  turned  away.  Perez  uttered  neither  thanks  nor 
farewell. 

The  men,  busy  with  the  final  packing,  stared  after  him 


314 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

with  much  curiosity,  and  accosted  the  priest  as  he  paced 
thoughtfully  back  to  the  portal. 

"  Padre,  is  this  ammunition  a  gift  of  Don  Jose,  or  is 
it  magic  from  the  old  monks  who  hid  the  red  gold  of 
El  Alisal  and  come  back  here  to  guard  it  and  haunt  Sole- 
dad?"  inquired  one  of  the  boldest. 

"There  are  no  hauntings,  and  that  red  gold  has  led 
enough  men  astray  in  the  desert.  It  is  best  forgotten." 

"  But  strange  things  do  come  about,"  insisted  another 
man.  "  Marto  Cavayso  swore  he  had  witchcraft  put  on 
him  by  the  green,  jewel  eyes  of  Dona  Jocasta,  and  you 
see  that  since  she  follows  our  general  he  has  the  good  luck, 
and  this  ammunition  comes  to  him  from  God  knows 
where!" 

"  It  may  be  the  Americano  knows,"  hazarded  the  first 
speaker.  "  He  took  her  from  Marto,  and  rides  ever  be 
side  her.  Who  proves  which  is  the  enchanter  ?  " 

"It  is  ill  work  to  put  the  name  of  'enchantment' 
against  any  mortal,"  chided  the  priest. 

"That  may  be,"  conceded  the  soldier,  "but  we  have 
had  speech  of  this  thing,  and  look  you!* — Dona  Jocasta 
rode  in  chains  until  the  Americano  crossed  her  trail,  and 
Don>  Ramon,  and  all  of  us,  searched  in  vain  for  the 
American  guns,  until  the  Americano  rode  to  Soledad! 
Enchantment  or  not,  he  has  luck  for  his  friends!" 

"  As  you  please ! "  conceded  the  priest  with  more  in 
difference  than  he  felt.  The  Americano  certainly  did  not 
belong  to  Soledad,  and  the  wonder  was  that  Ramon  Rotil 
gave  him  charge  of  so  beauteous  a  lady.  Padre  Andreas 
could  easily  perceive  how  the  followers  of  Rotil  thought 
it  enchantment,  or  any  other  thing  of  the  devil. 


RAMON  ROTIL  DECIDES  315 

Instinctively  he  disapproved  of  Rhodes'  position  in 
the  group ;  his  care-free,  happy  smile  ill  fitted  the  situation 
at  Soledad.  Before  the  stealing  away  of  Dona  Jocasta 
she  had  been  as  a  dead  woman  who  walked;  her  sense 
of  overwhelming  sin  was  gratifying  in  that  it  gave  every 
hope  of  leading  to  repentance,  but  on  her  return  the 
manner  of  her  behavior  was  different.  She  rode  like 
a  queen,  and  even  the  marriage  was  accepted  as  a  jus 
tice  !  Padre  Andreas  secretly  credited  the  heretic  Ameri 
cano  with  the  change,  and  Mexican  girls  put  no  such 
dependence  on  a  man  outside  of  her  own  family,  —  unless 
that  man  was  a  lover ! 

He  saw  his  own  influence  set  aside  by  the  stranger  and 
the  rebel  leader,  and  with  Dona  Jocasta  as  a  firebrand 
he  feared  dread  and  awful  things  now  that  Rotil  had 
given  her  power. 

He  found  her  with  bright  eyes  and  a  faint  flush  in 
her  cheeks  over  the  letter  Kit  was  writing  to  the  south. 
It  was  her  first  act  as  the  wife  of  Jose  Perez,  and  it 
was  being  written  to  the  girl  whom  Perez  had  hoped 
to  marry! 

Kit  got  considerable  joy  in  framing  her  request  as 
follows : 

To 

Senorita  Dolores  Terain, 
Linda  Vista  Rancho,  Sonora, 

HONORED  SENORITA  : 

As  a  woman  who  desires  to  secure  justice  and  mercy  for 
some  poor  peons  of  our  district  of  Altar,  I  venture  to  ad 
dress  you,  to  whom  womanly  compassion  must  belong  as 
does  beauty  and  graciousness. 


316  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

This  is  a  work  for  the  charity  of  women,  rather  than 
debates  in  law  courts  by  men. 

I  send  with  this  the  names  of  those  poor  people  who  were 
herded  south  for  slavery  by  Adolf  Conrad,  a  German  who 
calls  himself  American.  To  your  father,  the  illustrious  Gen 
eral  Terain,  this  man  Conrad  represented  these  poor  people 
as  rebels  and  raiders  of  this  region.  It  is  not  true.  They 
were  simple  peaceful  workers  on  little  ranches. 

They  were  given  shelter  at  your  rancho  of  Linda  Vista 
to  work  for  their  food  until  they  could  be  deported,  but  I 
send  with  this  a  payment  of  gold  with  which  to  repay  any 
care  they  have  been,  or  any  debts  incurred.  If  it  is  not 
enough,  I  pledge  myself  to  the  amount  you  will  regard  as 
justice. 

Dear  Senorita,  my  husband,  Don  Jose,  warns  me  that 
women  cannot  manage  such  affairs,  but  we  can  at  least  try. 
Parents  wait  here  for  sons  and  daughters,  and  little  children 
wait  for  their  parents.  Will  you  aid  in  the  Christian  task 
of  bringing  them  together  quickly  ? 

At  your  service  with  all  respect, 

JOCASTA  BENICIA  PEREZ, 

Soledad  Rancho,  Sonora. 

"  But  you  write  here  of  gold  sent  by  messenger,  sefior ! 
—  I  have  no  gold,  only  words  can  I  send,"  protested 
Dona  Jocasta  helplessly. 

"Ah,  but  the  words  are  more  precious  than  all,"  Kit 
assured  her.  "  It  is  the  right  word  we  have  waited  for, 
and  you  alone  could  give  it,  sefiora.  These  people  have 
held  the  gold  ransom  while  waiting  that  word,  and  this 
child  can  bring  it  when  the  time  is  right." 

Dona  Jocasta  regarded  Tula  doubtfully ;  she  certainly 
gave  no  appearance  of  holding  wealth  to  redeem  a  pueblo. 

"You,  —  the  little  one  to  whom  even  the  Deliverer 


RAMON  ROTIL  DECIDES 317 

listens?"  she  said  kindly.  "But  the  wealth  of  a  little 
Indian  ranch  would  not  seem  riches  to  this  illustrious 
lady,  the  Dona  Dolores  Terain." 

"  Yet  will  I  bring  riches  to  her  or  to  you,  Excellencia, 
if  only  my  mother  and  my  sister  are  coming  again  to 
Palomitas,"  said  Tula  earnestly. 

"But  whence  comes  wealth  to  you  in  a  land  where 
there  is  no  longer  wealth  for  anyone?  " 

Kit  listened  with  little  liking  for  the  conversation  after 
the  padre  entered.  It  was  a  direct  question,  and  to  be 
answered  with  directness,  and  he  watched  Tula  anxiously 
lest  she  say  the  wrong  thing.  But  she  told  the  straight 
truth  in  a  way  to  admit  of  no  question. 

"  Long  ago  my  father  got  gold  for  sacred  prayer  rea 
sons  ;  he  hid  it  until  he  was  old ;  when  he  died  he  made 
gift  of  it  to  me  that  my  mother  and  sister  buy  freedom. 
That  is  all,  Excellencia,  but  the  gold  is  good  gold." 

She  slipped  her  hand  under  her  skirt  and  unfastened 
the  leather  strings  of  the  burro-skin  belt,  —  it  fell  heavily 
on  the  tile  floor.  She  untied  the  end  of  it  and  poured  a 
handful  on  the  table. 

"You  see,  senora,  there  is  riches  enough  to  go  with 
your  words,  but  never  enough  to  pay  for  them." 

"Santa  Maria!"  cried  the  amazed  priest.  "That  is 
red  gold !  In  what  place  was  it  found  ?  " 

Tula  laid  her  hand  over  the  nuggets  and  faced  him. 

"  That  secret  was  the  secret  of  Miguel  who  is  dead." 

"  But  —  some  old  Indian  must  know " 

Tula  shook  her  head  with  absolute  finality. 

"  No  old  Indian  in  all  the  world  knows  that ! "  she  said. 
"This  was  a  secret  of  the  youth  of  Miguel,  and  only 


318  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

when  old  and  dying  did  he  give  it  for  his  people.    This  I, 
—  Tula,  child  of  Miguel  tell  you." 

Padre  Andreas  looked  from  the  girl  to  Kit  and  back 
again,  knowing  that  the  death  of  Miguel  was  a  recent 
thing  since  it  had  occurred  after  the  stealing  of  the 
women. 

"Where  did  your  father  die?"  he  asked. 

"  In  the  hills  of  the  desert." 

"And  —  who  had  absolving  and  burial  of  him?" 

"Absolving  I  do  not  know,  but  this  man,  his  friend, 
had  the  making  of  the  grave,"  she  said,  indicating  Kit, 
and  the  eyes  of  the  priest  rested  again  on  Kit  with  a 
most  curious  searching  regard.  Evidently  even  this  little 
Indian  stray  of  the  desert  arrived  at  good  fortune  under 
the  friendship  of  the  American  stranger,  —  and  it  was  an 
other  added  to  the  list  of  enchantings ! 

"Ah,"  he  murmured  meaningly,  "then  this  strange 
sefior  also  has  the  knowing  of  this  Indian  gold?  Is  it 
truly  gold  of  the  earth,  or  witches'  gold  of  red  clay?" 
and  he  went  nearer,  reaching  his  hand  to  touch  it. 

"Why  all  this  question  when  the  child  offers  it  for  a 
good  Christian  use?"  demanded  Dona  Jocasta.  "See, 
here  is  a  piece  of  it  heavy  enough  to  weigh  down  many 
lumps  of  clay,  and  north  or  south  it  will  prove  welcome 
ransom.  It  is  a  miracle  sent  by  the  saints  at  this  time." 

"Would  the  saints  send  the  red  gold  of  El  Alisal  to  a 
heretic  instead  of  a  son  of  the  church  ?  "  he  asked.  "  And 
this  is  that  gold  for  which  the  padres  of  Soledad  paid 
with  their  lives  long  ago.  There  was  never  such  red  gold 
found  in  Sonora  as  that,  and  the  church  had  its  own  claim 
on  it;  —  it  is  mission  gold!" 


RAMON  ROTIL  DECIDES  319 

"No,  not  now/'  said  Tula,  addressing  Dona  Jocasta, 
— "  truly  not  now !  They  claimed  it  long  ago,  but  the 
holding  of  it  was  a  thing  not  for  them.  Fire  came  out  of 
the  clouds  to  kill  them  there,  and  no  one  saw  them  alive 
anymore,  and  no  other  priest  ever  found  the  gold.  This 
much  is  found  by  Miguel,  for  a  dead  man's  promise ! " 

"The  girl  speaks  straight,  sefiora,"  ventured  Kit.  "I 
have  already  told  General  Rotil  of  the  promise,  but  no 
good  will  come  of  much  talk  over  the  quality  of  gold  for 
that  ransom.  To  carry  that  message  south  and  bring 
back  the  women  is  a  task  for  council,  but  outside  these 
walls,  no  tongue  must  speak  of  the  gold,  else  there  would 
be  no  safety  for  this  maid." 

"Yet  a  priest  may  ask  how  an  Americano  comes  far 
from  his  home  to  guard  gold  and  a  maid  in  Sonora?" 
retorted  Padre  Andreas.  "Strange  affairs  move  these 
days  in  Altar  —  guns,  ammunition,  and  the  gold  of  dead 
men !  In  all  these  things  you  have  a  say,  senor,  yet  you 
are  but  young  in  years,  and " 

"  Padre,"  interrupted  Dona  Jocasta  with  a  note  of  com 
mand,  "  he  was  old  enough  to  save  this  child  from  starva 
tion  in  the  desert,  and  he  was  old  enough  to  save  me  when 
even  you  could  no  longer  save  me,  so  why  object  because 
he  has  guarded  wealth,  and  means  to  use  it  in  a  way 
of  mercy?  Heretic  he  may  be,  but  he  has  the  trust  of 
Ramon  Rotil,  and  of  me.  Also  it  is  forbidden  to  men 
tion  this  belt  or  what  it  covers.  I  have  given  my  word, 
and  this  is  no  time  to  halt  the  task  we  have  set.  It  would 
better  serve  those  lost  people  if  you  help  us  find  a  mes 
senger  who  is  safe." 

It  was  the  first  time  the  new  Senora  Perez  assumed  a 


320 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

tone  of  authority  at  Soledad,  and  Kit  Rhodes  thanked  his 
lucky  stars  that  she  was  arrayed  with  him  instead  of 
against  him,  for  her  eyes  glowed  green  lightning  on  the 
priest  whose  curiosity  had  gotten  him  into  trouble.  Kit 
could  not  really  blame  him,  for  there  was  neither  priest 
nor  peon  of  the  land  who  had  not  had  visions  of  con 
quest  if  only  the  red  gold  of  the  Alisal  should  be  con 
veniently  stumbled  upon! 

And  Tula  listened  to  the  words  of  Dona  Jocasta  as  she 
would  have  listened  to  a  god. 

"  I  go/'  she  said  eagerly.  "  The  trail  it  is  strange  to 
me,  but  I  will  find  that  way.  I  think  I  find  in  the  dark 
that  trail  on  which  the  mother  of  me  was  going! " 

Dona  Jocasta  patted  the  hand  of  the  girl,  but  looked 
at  Kit.  "That  trail  is  not  for  a  maid,"  she  said  mean 
ingly.  "  I  came  over  it,  and  know." 

"I  think  it  is  for  me,"  he  answered.  "The  promise 
was  mine.  I  know  none  of  the  people,  but  the  names  are 
written.  It  is  eighty  miles." 

"Three  days." 

"  More,  double  that,"  he  said  thoughtfully,  and  the  eyes 
of  Tula  met  his  in  disapproval.  It  was  the  merest  hint  of 
a  frown,  but  it  served.  She  could  do  the  errand  better 
than  she  could  guard  the  rest  of  the  gold.  If  her  little 
belt  was  lost  it  was  little,  but  if  his  store  should  be  found 
it  would  be  enough  to  start  a  new  revolution  in  Sonora ; 
—  the  men  of  Rotil  and  the  suspicious  padre  would  unite 
on  the  treasure  trail.  It  was  the  padre  who  gave  him 
most  uneasiness,  because  the  padre  was  guessing  cor 
rectly  !  The  dream  of  a  mighty  church  of  the  desert  to 
commemorate  all  the  ruined  missions  of  the  wilderness, 


RAMON  ROTIL  DECIDES 321 

was  a  great  dream  for  the  priest  of  a  little  pueblo,  and 
the  eyes  of  the  Padre  Andreas  were  alight  with  keen, 
—  too  keen,  anticipation. 

"  I  go,"  stated  Tula  again.  "  No  other  one  is  knowing 
my  people." 

"That  is  a  true  word,"  decided  Padre  Andreas,  "a 
major-domo,  of  evil  mind  at  Linda  Vista  could  take  the 
gold  and  send  north  whatever  unruly  vagabonds  he  had 
wished  to  be  free  from.  Let  the  maid  go,  and  I  can 
arrange  to  see  her  there  safe." 

This  kind  offer  did  not  receive  the  approval  deserved. 
Kit  wished  no  man  on  the  trail  with  Tula  who  knew  of 
the  gold,  and  Tula  herself  was  not  eager  to  journey  into 
unknown  regions  with  a  man  of  religion,  who  had  already 
learned  from  Valencia  of  the  elaborate  ceremony  planned 
for  a  "  Judas  day ! "  Little  though  Tula  knew  of  churchly 
observances,  she  had  an  instinctive  fear  that  she  would 
be  detained  in  the  south  too  long  to  officiate  in  this  spe 
cial  ceremony  on  which  she  had  set  her  heart. 

"Not  with  a  priest  will  I  go,"  she  announced.  "He 
would  shut  me  in  a  school,  and  in  that  place  I  would 
die.  Clodomiro  can  go,  or  Isidro,  who  is  so  good  and 
knowing  all  our  people." 

"  That  is  a  good  thought,"  agreed  Dona  Jocasta,  who 
had  no  desire  that  Padre  Andreas  meet  the  family  of 
Terain  and  recount  details  of  the  Perez  marriage,  —  not 
at  least  until  she  had  worn  her  official  title  a  little  longer 
and  tested  the  authority  it  gave  her.  "That  is  a  good 
thought,  for  I  have  no  wish  that  my  house  be  left  with 
out  a  priest.  Sefior  Rhodes,  which  man  is  best?" 

But  before  Kit  could  answer  Ramon  Rotil  stood  in 


322 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

the  door,  and  his  eyes  went  to  the  papers  on  the  table. 
Tula  had  recovered  her  belt,  and  fastened  it  under  the 
manta  she  wore. 

"  So !  you  are  working  in  council,  eh  ?  "  he  asked.  "  And 
have  arrived  at  plans?  First  your  own  safety,  sefiora?" 

"No,  senor, —  first  the  bringing  back  of  the  people 
driven  off  by  the  slavers.  The  letter  is  written;  this 
child  is  to  take  it  because  the  people  are  her  people,  but 
a  safe  man  is  wanted,  and  these  two  I  cannot  let  go.  You 
know  Jose  Perez,  and  his  wife  must  not  be  without  a  man 
of  religion  as  guard,  yet  he  alone  would  not  save  me 
from  others,  hence  the  American  senor " 

"Sure,  that  is  a  safe  thought,"  and  he  took  the  seat 
offered  by  Kit.  But  he  shook  his  head  after  listening  to 
their  suggestions. 

"  No.  Isidro  is  too  old,  and  Clodomiro  with  his  flying 
ribbands  of  a  would-be  lover,  is  too  young  for  that  trail. 
You  want — you  want " 

He  paused  as  his  mind  evidently  went  searching  among 
his  men  for  one  dependable.  Then  he  smiled  at  Kit. 

"  You  saved  me  the  right  man,  senor !  Who  would  be 
better  than  the  foreman  of  Soledad?  Would  it  not  be 
expected  that  Sefiora  Perez  would  send  the  most  im 
portant  of  the  ranchmen?  Very  well  then.  Marto  is 
safe,  he  will  go." 

"But  Marto  — "  began  Padre  Andreas,  when  Rotil 
faced  about,  staring  him  into  silence. 

"Marto  will  return  here  to  Soledad  today/'  he  said, 
and  the  face  of  the  priest  went  pale.  It  was  as  if  he  had 
said  that  the  task  of  Marto  on  the  east  trail  would  be 
ended. 


RAMON  ROTIL  DECIDES  323 

"  Yes,  Marto  Cavayso  has  been  at  Hermosillo,"  as 
sented  Dona  Jocasta.  "  He  will  know  all  the  ways  to 
arrive  quickly." 

"  That  will  be  attended  to.  Will  you,  sefior,  see  to  it 
that  horse  and  provision  are  made  ready  for  the  trail? 
And  you,  senora?  Soledad  in  the  wilderness  is  no  good 
place  for  a  lady.  When  this  matter  of  the  slaves  is  ar 
ranged,  will  it  please  you  to  ride  south,  or  north  ?  Troops 
of  the  south  will  be  coming  this  way;  —  it  will  be  a  land 
of  soldiers  and  foraging." 

"How  shall  I  answer  that?"  murmured  Dona  Jocasta 
miserably.  "  In  the  south  Jose  Perez  may  make  life  a  not 
possible  thing  for  me, —  and  in  the  north  I  would  be  a 
stranger." 

"Jose  Perez  will  not  make  trouble;  yet  trouble  might 
be  made,  —  at  first,"  said  Rotil  avoiding  her  eyes,  and 
turning  again  to  Kit.  "  Sefior,  by  the  time  Marto  gets 
back  from  the  south,  the  pack  mules  will  be  -here  again. 
Until  they  are  gone  from  Soledad  I  trust  you  in  charge  of 
Senora  Perez.  She  must  have  a  manager,  and  there  is 
none  so  near  as  you." 

"At  her  service,"  said  Kit  promptly,  "but  this 
place—  -" 

"  Ai,  that  is  it,"  agreed  Rotil.  "  North  is  the  safer  place 
for  women  alone,  and  you  —  did  you  not  say  that  on 
Granados  there  were  friends  ?  " 

"Why,  yes,  General,"  replied  Kit.  "My  friend,  Cap 
tain  Pike,  is  somewhere  near,  and  the  owner  of  Granados 
is  a  lady,  and  among  us  we'll  do  our  best.  But  it's  a  hard 
trip,  and  I've  only  one  gun." 

"You  will  take  your  choice  of  guns,  horses,  or  men," 


324 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

decided  Rotil.  "  That  is  your  work.  Also  you  will  take 
with  you  the  evidence  of  Senora  Perez  on  that  matter  of 
the  murder.  The  padre  can  also  come  in  on  that,  —  so  it 
will  be  service  all  around." 

Chappo  came  to  the  door  to  report  that  all  was  ready 
for  the  trail,  and  Rotil  stood  up,  and  handed  to  Dona 
Jocasta  the  marriage  contract. 

"  Consider  the  best  way  of  protecting  this  until  you 
reach  an  alcalde  and  have  a  copy  made  and  witnessed," 
he  said  warningly.  "'It  protects  your  future.  The  for 
tunes  of  war  may  take  all  the  rest  of  us,  but  the  wife  of 
Perez  needs  the  record  of  our  names ;  see  to  it ! " 

She  looked  up  at  him  as  if  to  speak,  but  no  words 
came.  He  gazed  curiously  at  her  bent  head,  and  the 
slender  hands  over  the  papers.  In  his  life  of  turmoil  and 
bloodshed  he  had  halted  to  secure  for  her  the  right  to  a 
principality.  In  setting  his  face  to  the  east,  and  the  battle 
line,  he  knew  the  chance  was  faint  that  he  would  ever 
see  her  again,  and  his  smile  had  in  it  a  touch  of  self- 
derision  at  the  thought,  —  for  after  all  he  was  nothing 
to  her ! 

"  So  —  that  is  all,"  he  said,  turning  away.  "  You  come 
with  me  a  little1  ways,  senor,  and  to  you,  senora,  a&ios!" 

"  Go  with  God,  Ramon  Rotil/'  she  murmured,  "  and  if 
ever  a  friend  is  of  need  to  you,  remember  the  woman  to 
whom  you  gave  justice  and  a  name ! " 

"  Adios"  he  repeated,  and  his  spurs  tinkled  as  he  strode 
through  the  patio  to  the  portal  where  the  saddle  horses 
were  waiting.  The  pack  mules  were  already  below  the 
mesa,  and  reached  in  a  long  line  over  the  range  towards 
the  canon  of  the  eastern  trail. 


RAMON  ROTIL  DECIDES  325 

"  You  have  your  work  cut  out,"  he  said  to  Kit.  "  For 
one  thing,  Marto  Cavayso  will  carry  out  orders,  but  you 
must  not  have  him  enter  a  room  where  Dona  Jocasta 
may  be.  It  would  be  to  offend  her  and  frighten  him.  He 
swears  to  the  saints  that  he  was  bewitched.  That  i's  as 
may  be,  but  it  is  an  easy  way  out !  When  the  pack  mules 
come  back,  and  Marto  is  here,  it  is  for  you  two  to  do 
again  the  thing  we  did  last  night.  I  may  need  Soledad 
on  another  day,  and  would  keep  all  its  secrets.  After  you 
have  loaded  the  last  of  the  guns  it  is  best  for  you  to  go 
quickly.  Here  is  a  permit  in  case  you.  cross  any  land 
held  by  our  men;  —  it  is  for  you,  your  family,  and  all 
your  baggage  without  molestation.  Seno-ra  Perez  has  the 
same.  This  means  you  can  take  over  the  border  any  of 
the  furnishings  of  Soledad  required  by  the  lady  for  a 
hojne  elsewhere.  The  wagons  sent  north  by  Perez  will 
serve  well  for  that,  and  they  are  hers." 

"But  if  he  should  send  men  of  his  own  to  inter 
fere " 

"He  won't,"  stated  Rotil.  "You  are  capitan,  and 
Soledad  is  under  military  rule.  There  is  only  one  soul 
here  over  which  your  word  is  not  law.  I  have  given  the 
German  Judas  to  your  girl,  and  the  women  can  have  their 
way  with  him.  He  is  as  -a  dead  man ;  call  her." 

There  was  no  need,  for  Tula  had  followed*  at  a  dis 
creet  distance,  and  from  beside  a  pillar  gazed  regretfully 
after  her  hero,  the  Deliverer,  whom  she  felt  every  man 
should  follow. 

"  Oija,  wnichacha!"  he  said  as  Kit  beckoned  her  for 
ward,  "go  to  Fidelio.  He  is  over  there  filling  the  can- 
tins  at  the  well.  Tell  him  to  give  you  the  key  to  the 


326 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

quarters  of  El  Aleman,  and  hearken  you!  —  I  wash  my 
hands  of  him  from  this  day.  If  you  keep  him,  well,  but 
if  he  escapes,  the  loss  is  to  you.  I  go,  and  not  again  will 
Ramon  Rotil  trap  a  Judas  for  your  hellishness." 

Tula  sped  to  Fidelio,  secured  the  key  and  was  back  to 
hold  the  stirrup  of  Rotil  as  he  was  helped  to  the  saddle. 

"If  God  had  made  me  a  man  instead  of  a  maid,  I 
would  ride  the  world  as  your  soldier,  my  General,"  she 
said,  holding  the  key  to  her  breast  as  an  amulet. 

"Send  your  lovers  instead,"  he  said,  and  laughed, 
"  for  you  will  have  them  when  you  get  more  beef  on 
your  bones.  Adios,  soldier  girl ! " 

She  peered  up  at  him  under  her  mane  of  black  hair. 

"Myself,  —  I  think  that  is  true,"  she  stated  gravely, 
"also  my  lovers,  when  they  come,  must  follow  you! 
When  I  see  my  own  people  safe  in  Palomitas  it  may  be 
that  I,  Tula,  will  also  follow  you,  —  and  the  help  of  tbe 
child  of  Miguel  may  not  be  a  little  help,  my  General." 

Kit  Rhodes  alone  knew  what  she  meant.  Her  intense 
admiration  for  the  rebel  leader  of  the  wilderness  had 
brought  the  glimmer  of  a  dream  to  her;  —  the  need  of 
gold  was  great  as  the  need  of  guns,  and  for  the  deliv 
erer  of  the  tribes  what  gift  too  great? 

But  the  others  of  the  guard  laughed  at  the  crazy  saying 
of  the  brown  wisp  of  a  girl.  They  had  seen  women  of 
beauty  give  him  smiles,  and  more  than  one  girl  follow 
his  trail  for  his  lightest  word,  but  to  none  of  them 
did  it  occur  that  this  one  called  by  him  the  young  crane, 
or  the  possessor  of  many  devils,  could  bring  more  power 
to  his  hand  than  a  regiment  of  the  women  who  were 
comrades  of  a  light  hour. 


RAMON  ROTIL  DECIDES  327 

But  her  solemnity  amused  Rotil,  and  he  swept  off 
his  hat  with  exaggerated  courtesy. 

"  I  await  the  day,  Tulita.  Sure,  bring  your  lovers,  — 
and  later  your  sons  to  the  fight!  While  you  wait  for 
them  tell  Martor  Cavayso  he  is  to  have  a  care  of  you-  as 
if  you  were  the  only  child  of  Ramon  Rotil!  I  too  will 
have  a  word  with  him  of  that.  See  to  it,  Capitan  of  the 
roads,  and  adios!" 

He  grinned  at  the  play  upon  the  name  of  Rhodes,  and 
whirled  his  horse,  joining  his  men,  who  sat  their  mounts 
and  watched  at  a  little  distance. 

Within  the  portal  was  gathered  all  those  left  of  the 
household  of  Soledad  to  whom  the  coming  and  the 
going  of  the  revolutionary  leader  was  the  great  event 
of  their  lives,  and  all  took  note  of  the  title  of  "  Capitan  " 
and  the  fact  that  the  Americano  and  the  Indian  girl  had 
his  last  spoken  words. 

They  had  gone  scarce  a  mile  when  Fidelio  spurred 
his  horse  back  and  with  Mexican  dash  drew  him  back 
on  his  haunches  as  Kit  emerged  from  the  corridor. 

"  General  Rotil's  compliments,"  he  said  with  a  grin, 
"  and  Marto  will  report  to  you  any  event  requiring  writ 
ten  record,  —  and  silence ! " 

"  Say  that  again  and  say  it  slow/'  suggested  Kit. 

"That  is  the  word  as  he  said  it,  Capitan,  'requiring 
the  writing  of  records,  and  —  silence! ' ' 

"  I  £et  you,"  said  Kit,  and  with  a  flourish  and  a  clatter, 
Fidelio  was  soon  lost  in  the  dust. 

Kit  was  by  no  means  certain  that  he  did  "get"  him. 
He  felt  that  he  had  quite  enough  trouble  without  addi 
tion  of  records  and  secrecy  for  acts  of  the  Deliverer. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

THE  RETURN  OF  TULA 

THE  sentinel  palms  of  Soledad  were  sending  long 
lines  of  shadows  toward  the  blue  range  of  the 
Sierras,   and  gnarled  old   orange  trees   in   the  ancient 
mission  garden  drenched  the  air  with  fragrance  from 
many  petals. 

There  had  been  a  sand  storm  the  day  before,  followed 
by  rain,  and  all  the  land  was  refreshed  and  sparkling. 
The  pepper  trees  swung  tassels  of  bloom  and  the  flaming 
coral  of  the  occotilla  glowed  like  tropic  birds  poised  on 
wide-reaching  wands  of  green.  Meadow  larks  echoed 
each  other  in  the  tender  calls  of  nesting  time,  and  from 
the  jagged  peaks  on  the  east,  to  far  low  hills  rising  out 
of  a  golden  haze  in  the  west,  there  was  a  great  quiet 
and  peace  brooding  over  the  old  mission  grounds  of 
the  wilderness. 

Dona  Jocasta  paced  the  outer  corridor,  watched  som 
berly  by  Padre  Andreas  on  whom  the  beauty  of  the 
hour  was  lost. 

"  Is  your  heart  turned  stone  that  you  lift  no  hand,  or 
speak  no  word  for  the  soul  of  a  mortal  ?  "  he  demanded. 
"Already  the  terrible  women  of  Palomitas  are  coming 
to  wait  for  their  Judas,  and  this  is  the  morning  of  the 
day!" 

328 


THE  RETURN  OF  TULA 329 

"It  is  no  work  of  mine,  Padre,"  she  answered  wear 
ily.  "I  am  sick,  —  here!  —  that  the  beast  has  been  all 
these  days  and  nights  under  a  roof  near  me.  I  know  how 
the  women  feel,  though  I  think  I  would  not  wait,  as  they 
have  waited,  —  for  Good  Friday." 

"  It  is  murder  in  your  heart  to  harbor  such  wicked 
ness  of  thought,"  he  insisted.  "  Your  soul  is  in  jeopardy 
that  you  do  not  contemplate  forgiveness.  Even  though 
a  man  be  a  heretic,  a  priest  must  do  his  office  when  it 
comes  to  a  sentence  of  death.  After  all  —  he  is  a  hu 
man." 

"  I  do  not  know  that,"  replied  Dona  Jocasta  thought 
fully,  and  she  sank  into  a  rawhide  chair  in  the  shade  of 
a  pillar.  "Listen,  Padre.  I  am  not  learned  in  books, 
but  I  have  had  new  thoughts  with  me  these  days.  Don 
Pajarito  is  telling  me  of  los  Alemanos  all  over  the 
world;  —  souls  they  have  not,  and  serpents  and  toads  are 
their  mothers!  Here  in  Mexico  we  have  our  flag  from 
old  Indian  days  with  the  eagle  and  the  snake.  Once 
I  heard  scholars  in  Hermosillo  talk  about  that;  they 
said  it  was  from  ancient  times  of  sky  worship,  and  the 
bird  was  a  bird  of  stars,  —  also  the  serpent." 

Padre  Andreas  lifted  his  brows  in  derision  at  the 
childishness  of  Indian  astrology. 

"Myself,  I  think  the  Indian  sky  knowers  had  the 
prophet  sight,"  went  on  Dona  Jocasta.  "They  make 
their  eagle  on  the  standard  and  they  put  the  serpent 
there  of  the  reason  that  some  day  a  thing  of  poison 
would  crawl  to  the  nest  of  the  eagle  of  Mexico  to  com 
rade  there.  It  has  crawled  over  the  seas  for  that, 
Padre,  and  the  beak  and  claws  and  wing  of  the  eagle 


330 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

must  all  do  battle  to  kill  the  head  and  the  heart  of  it;  — 
for  the  heart  of  a  serpent  dies  hard,  and  they  breed 
and  hatch  their  eggs  everywhere  in  the  soil  of  Mexico. 
Sefior  Padre,  the  Indian  women  of  Palomitas  are  right! 
—  the  girl  Tula  is  a  child  of  the  eagle,  and  her  stroke  at 
the  heart  of  the  German  snake  will  be  a  true  stroke.  I 
will  not  be  one  to  give  the  weak  word  for  mercy." 

Her  gaze,  through  half-closed  lids,  was  directed  to 
wards  the  far  trail  of  the  canon  where  moving  dots  of 
dark  marked  the  coming  of  the  Palomitas  women.  A 
ray  of  reflected  light  touched  the  jewel  green  of  her 
eyes  like  shadowed  emeralds  in  their  dusky  casket,  and 
the  priest,  constantly  proclaiming  the  probable  loss  of 
her  soul,  could  not  but  bring  his  glance  again  and  again 
to  the  wondrous  beauty  of  her.  She  had  bloomed  like 
a  royal  rose  in  the  days  of  serene  rest  at  Soledad. 

"If  the  heretic  Americano  gives  you  these  thoughts 
which  are  not  Christian,  it  will  be  a  day  of  good  luck 
when  you  see  the  last  of  him/'  was  his  cold  statement  as 
he  watched  her.  "  My  mind  is  not  well  satisfied  as  to 
his  knowledge  of  secret  things  here  in  Sonora.  The 
Indians  say  he  is  an  enchanter  or  Ramon  Rotil  would 
never  have  left  him  here  as  capitan  with  you,  —  and  that 
belt  of  gold " 

"  But  it  was  not  the  belt  of  the  Americano ! " 

"  No,  but  he  knows!  I  tell  you  that  gold  is  of  the  gold 
lost  before  we  were  born,  —  the  red  gold  of  the  padres' 
mine!" 

"  But  the  old  women  are  telling  me  that  the  gold  was 
Indian  gold  long  before  Spanish  priests  saw  the  land! 
Does  the  Indian  girl  then  not  have  first  right?" 


THE  RETURN  OF  TULA 331 

"  None  has  right  ahead  of  the  church,  since  all  those 
pagans  are  under  the  rule  of  church!  They  are  be 
nighted  heathen  who  must  come  under  instruction  and 
authority,  else  are  they  as  beasts  of  the  field.'* 

"  Still,  —  if  the  girl  makes  use  of  her  little  heritage  for 
a  pious  purpose " 

"  Her  intent  has  nothing  to  do  with  that  secret  knowl 
edge  of  the  Americano!"  he  insisted.  "Has  he  be 
witched  you  also  that  you  have  so  little  interest  in  a 
mine  of  gold  in  anyone  of  the  arroyas  of  your  land?" 

She  smiled   at  that  without  turning  her  head. 

"If  a  mountain  of  gold  should  be  uncovered  at  Sole- 
dad,  of  what  difference  to  me?  Would  he  let  a  woman 
make  traffic  with  it?  Surely  not." 

"He?" 

"  Jose  Perez,  —  who  else  ?  " 

Padre  Andreas  closed  his  eyes  a  moment  and  arose, 
but  did  not  answer.  He  paced  the  length  of  the  cor 
ridor  and  back  before  he  spoke. 

"  It  is  for  you  to  ask  the  Americano  that  the  prisoner 
be  given  a  priest  if  he  wants  prayer,"  he  said  returning 
to  their  original  subject  of  communication.  "It  is  a 
duty  that  I  tell  you  this ;  it  is  your  own  house." 

"  Senor  Rhodes  is  capitan,"  she  returned  indifferently. 
"It  is  his  task  to  give  me  rest  here  to  prepare  for  that 
long  north  journey.  I  do  not  rest  in  my  mind  or  my 
soul  when  you  talk  to  me  of  the  German  snake,  so  I 
will  ask  that  you  speak  with  Capitan  Rhodes.  He  has 
the  knowing  of  Spanish." 

"Too  much  for  safety  of  us,"  commented  the  priest 
darkly.  "Who  is  to  say  how  he  uses  it  with  the  In- 


THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 


dians?  It  is  well  known  that  the  American  government 
would  win  all  this  land,  and  work  with  the  Indians  that 
they  help  win  it." 

"  So  everyone  is  saying  in  Hermosillo,"  agreed  Dona 
Jocasta,  "but  the  American  capitan  has  not  told  me  lies 
of  any  other  thing,  and  he  is  saying  that  is  a  lie  made  by 
foreign  people.  Also  — "  and  she  looked  at  him  doubt 
fully,  "the  man  Conrad  cursed  your  name  yesterday 
as  a  damned  Austrian  whose  country  had  cost  his  coun 
try  much." 

"  My  mother  was  not  Austrian ! "  retorted  Padre  An 
dreas,  "  and  all  my  childhood  was  in  Mexico.  But  how 
did  Conrad  know?" 

"He  told  Elena  it  was  his  business  to  know  such 
things.  The  Germans  help  send  many  Mexican  priests 
north  over  the  border.  He  had  the  thought  that  you  are 
to  go  with  me  for  some  reason  political  of  which  I  knew 
nothing ! " 

"I?  Did  /  come  in  willingness  to  this  wilderness? 
From  the  beginning  to  the  end  I  am  as  a  prisoner  here; 
—  as  much  a  prisoner  as  is  El  Aleman  behind  the  bars ! 
No  horse  is  mine;  —  if  I  walk  abroad  for  my  own  health 
a  vaquero  ever  is  after  me  that  I  ride  back  with  no 
fatigue  to  myself !  It  is  the  work  of  the  heretic  Ameri 
cano  who  will  have  his  own  curse  for  it!" 

He  fumed  nervously  over  the  unexpected  thrust  of 
Austrian  ancestry,  and  the  beautiful  eyes  of  Dona  Jo 
casta  regarded  him  with  awakened  interest.  She  had 
never  thought  of  his  politics,  or  possible  affiliations,  but 
after  all  it  was  true  that  he  had  been  stationed  at  a 
pueblo  where  everything  on  wheels  must  pass  coming 


THE  RETURN  OF  TULA  333 

north  towards  the  border,  also  that  was  a  very  small 
pueblo  to  support  a  padre,  and  perhaps 

"  Padre,"  she  said  after  a  moment,  "  but  for  the 
Americano  you  would  be  a  dead  man.  Think  you  what 
Ramon  would  have  done  to  a  priest  who  let  a  vaquero 
carry  me  to  the  ranges!  Also  I  came  back  to  Soledad 
because  the  Americano  told  me  it  was  only  duty  and 
justice  that  I  come  for  your  sake  as  Ramon  has  no  lik 
ing  for  priests.  You  see,  sefior,  our  American  capitan 
of  Soledad  is  not  so  bad;  —  he  had  a  care  of  you." 

"  Too  much  a  care  of  me ! "  retorted  the  priest. 
"  Know  you  not  that  the  door  of  my  sleeping  room  is 
bolted  each  night,  and  unbolted  at  dawn?  He  laughs 
with  a  light  heart,  and  sings  foolishly,  —  your  new  Ameri 
cano;  but  under  that  cloak  of  the  simple  his  plotting  is 
not  idle ! " 

"As  to  that,  I  think  his  light  heart  is  not  so  light 
these  days,"  said  Dona  Jocasta.  "Two  days  now  the 
Indian  girl  and  Marto  Cavayso  could  have  been  back  in 
Soledad,  and  he  is  looking,  looking  ever  over  that  empty 
trail.  Before  the  sun  was  above  the  sierra  today  he  was 
far  there  coming  across  the  mesa." 

"A  man  does  not  go  in  the  dark  to  look  for  a  trail," 
said  Padre  Andreas  meaningly.  "  He  unbolted  my  door 
on  his  return,  and  to  me  he  looked  as  a  man  who  has 
done  work  that  was  heavy.  What  work  is  there  for  him 
to  do  alone  in  the  hills?" 

"  Who  knows  ?  A  horse  herd  is  somewhere  in  a  canon 
beyond.  There  are  colts,  and  the  storm  of  yesterday 
might  make  trouble.  The  old  father  of  Elena  says  that 
storm  has  not  gone  far  and  will  come  back !  And  while 


334 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

the  Americano  rides  to  learn  of  colts,  and  strays,  he  also 
picks  the  best  mules  for  our  journey  to  the  border." 

"Does  he  find  the  best  mules  with  packs  already  on 
their  backs  in  the  canons?*'  demanded  the  padre  skep 
tically.  "  From  my  window  I  saw  them  return." 

"  I  also/'  confessed  Dona  Jocasta  amused  at  the  per 
sistence  of  suspicion,  "and  the  load  was  the  water  bags 
and  scrape!  Does  any  but  a  fool  go  into  the  wilderness 
without  water?" 

"You  cover  him  well,  sefiora,  but  I  think  it  was  not 
horses  he  went  in  the  night  to  count,"  said  the  priest 
sarcastically.  "  Gold  in  the  land  is  to  him  who  finds  it,  — 
and  I  tell  you  the  church  will  hear  of  that  red  gold  belt 
from  me!  Also  there  will  be  a  new  search  for  it!  If  it 
is  here  the  church  will  see  that  it  does  not  go  with 
American  renegades  across  the  border!" 

"  Padre,  all  the  land  speaks  peace  today,  yet  you  are 
as  a  threatening  cloud  over  Soledad ! " 

"  I  speak  in  warning,  not  threat,  —  and  I  am  not  the 
only  cloud  in  the  sky.  The  women  of  vengeance  are 
coming  beyond  there  where  the  willows  are  green." 

Dona  Jocasta  looked  the  way  he  pointed,  and  stood 
up  with  an  exclamation  of  alarm. 

"Clodomiro!  Call  Clodomiro!"  she  said  hurriedly, 
and  as  the  priest  only  stared  at  her,  she  sped  past  him  to 
the  portal  and  called  the  boy  who  came  running  from  the 
patio. 

She  pointed  as  the  priest  had  pointed. 

"They  are  strangers,  they  do  not  know/'  she  said. 
"Kill  a  horse,  but  meet  them!" 

His  horse  was  in  the  plaza,  and  he  was  in  the  saddle 


THE  RETURN  OF  TULA  335 

before  she  finished  speaking,  digging  in  his  heels  and 
yelling  as  though  leading  a  charge  while  the  frightened 
animal  ran  like  a  wild  thing. 

Dona  Jocasta  stood  gazing  after  him  intently,  shading 
her  eyes  with  her  hand.  Women  came  running  out  of 
the  patio  and  Padre  Andreas  stared  at  her. 

"What  new  thing  has  given  you  fear?"  he  asked  in 
wonder. 

"  No  new  thing,  —  a  very  old  thing  of  which  Elena  told 
me!  That  green  strip  of  willow  is  the  edge  of  a  quick 
sand  where  no  one  knows  the  depth.  The  women  are 
thinking  to  make  a  short  path  across,  and  the  one  who 
leads  will  surely  go  down." 

The  priest   stared   incredulous. 

"How  a  quicksand  and  no  water?"  he  asked  doubt 
fully. 

"  There  is  water,  —  hidden  water !  It  comes  under  the 
ground  from  the  hills.  In  the  old,  old  days  it  was  a 
wide  well  boiling  like  a  kettle  over  a  fire,  also  it  was 
warm!  Then  sand  storms  filled  that  valley  and  filled 
the  well.  It  is  crusted  over,  but  the  boiling  goes  on  far 
below.  Elena  said  not  even  a  coyote  will  touch  that 
canoncita  though  the  dogs  are  on  his  trail.  The  Indians 
say  an  evil  spirit  lives  under  there,  but  the  women  of 
Mesa  Blanca  and  Palomitas  do  not  know  the  place." 

"It  should  have  a  fence,  —  a  place  like  that." 

"  It  had,  but  the  wind  took  it,  and,  as  you  see,  Soledad 
is  a  forgotten  place." 

They  watched  Clodomiro  circle  over  the  mesa  trail 
and  follow  the  women  down  the  slope  of  the  little 
valley.  It  was  fully  three  miles  away,  yet  the  women 


336 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

could  be  seen  running  in  fear  to  the  top  of  the  mesa 
where  they  cast  themselves  on  the  ground  resting  from 
fright  and  exertion. 

Quite  enjoying  his  spectacular  dash  of  rescue,  Clodo- 
miro  cantered  back  along  the  trail,  and  when  he  reached 
the  highest  point,  turned  looking  to  the  southeast  where, 
beyond  the  range,  the  old  Yaqui  trail  led  to  the  land  of 
despair. 

He  halted  there,  throwing  up  his  hand  as  if  in  answer 
to  some  signal,  and  then  darted  away,  straight  across  the 
mesa  instead  of  toward  the  buildings. 

"Tula  has  come!"  said  Dona  Jocasta  in  a  hushed 
voice  of  dread.  "  She  has  come,  and  Senor  Rhodes  is 
needed  here.  That  coming  of  Tula  may  bring  an  end 
to  quiet  days,  —  like  this!" 

She  sighed  as  she  spoke,  for  the  week  had  been  as  a 
space  of  restful  paradise  after  the  mental  and  physical 
horrors  she  had  lived  through. 

In  a  half  hour  Clodomiro  came  in  sight  again  just 
as  Kit  rode  in  from  the  west. 

"Get  horses  out  of  the  corrals,"  he  called,  "all  of 
them.  That  trail  has  been  long  even  from  the  rail 
road." 

It  was  done  quickly,  and  the  vaqueros  rode  out  as 
Clodomiro  reached  the  plaza. 

"Tula?"  asked  Kit. 

"Tula  is  as  the  living  whose  mind  is  with  the  dead," 
said  the  boy.  "Many  are  sick,  some  are  dead,  —  the 
mother  of  Tula  died  on  the  trail  last  night." 

"Good  God!"  whispered  Kit.  "After  all  that  hell 
of  a  trail,  to  save  no  one  for  herself !  Where  is  Marto?  " 


THE  RETURN  OF  TULA  337 

"Marto  walks,  and  sick  ones  are  on  his  horse.  I 
go  back  now  that  Tula  has  this  horse." 

"No,  I  will  go.  Stay  you  here  to  give  help  to  the 
women.  Bring  out  beds  in  every  corridor.  Bring  straw 
and  blankets  when  the  beds  are  done." 

Dona  Jocasta  put  out  her  hand  ae  he  was  about  to 
mount. 

"And  I?  What  task  is  mine  to  help?"  she  asked, 
and  Kit  looked  down  at  her  gravely. 

"  Senora,  you  have  only  to  be  yourself,  gracious  and 
kind  of  heart.  Also  remember  this  is  the  first  chance 
in  the  lands  of  Soledad  to  show  the  natives  they  have 
not  alone  a  padrona,  but  a  protecting  friend.  In  days 
to  come  it  may  be  a  memory  of  comfort  to  you." 

Then  he  mounted,  and  led  the  string  of  horses  out 
to  meet  the  exiles.  While  she  looked  after  him  mur 
muring,  "In  days  to  come?" 

And  to  the  padre  she  said,  "  I  had  ceased  to  think  of 
days  to  come,  for  the  days  of  my  life  had  reached  the 
end  of  all  I  could  see  or  think.  He  gives  hope  even  in 
the  midst  of  sadness,  —  does  the  Americano." 

Kit  met  the  band  where  the  trail  forked  to  Palomitas 
and  Mesa  Blanca.  Some  wanted  to  go  direct  to  their 
own  homes  and  people,  while  Marto  argued  that  food 
and  rest  and  a  priest  awaited  them  at  Soledad,  and 
because  of  their  dead,  they  should  have  prayers. 

Tula  said  nothing.  She  sat  on  the  sand,  and  caressed 
a  knife  with  a  slightly  curved  blade,  —  a  knife  not  Mexi 
can,  yet  familiar  to  Kit,  and  like  a  flash  he  recalled 
seeing  one  like  it  in  the  hand  of  Conrad  at  Granados. 

She  did  not  even  look  up  when  he  halted  beside  her 


338 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

though  the  others  welcomed  with  joy  the  sight  of  the 
horses  for  the  rest  of  the  trail. 

"Tula*!"  he  said  bending  over  her,  "Tula,  we  come 
to  welcome  you,  —  my  horse  is  for  your  riding." 

She  looked  up  when  he  touched  her. 

"Friend  of  me/'  she  murmured  wistfully,  "you  made 
me  put  a  mark  at  that  place  after  we  met  in  the  first 
dawn,  —  so  I  was  knowing  it  well.  Also  my  mother  was 
knowing,  —  and  it  was  where  she  died  last  night  under 
the  moon.  See,  this  is  the  knife  on  which  Anita  died  in 
that  place.  It  is  ended  for  us  —  the  people  of  Miguel, 
and  the  people  of  Cajame ! " 

"Tula,  you  have  done  wonderful  things,  many  deeds 
to  make  the  spirit  of  Miguel  proud.  Is  that  not  so,  my 
friends?"  and  he  turned  to  the  others,  travel-stained, 
sick  and  weary,  yet  one  in  their  cries  of  the  gratitude 
they  owed  to  Tula  and  to  him,  by  which  he  perceived 
that  Tula  had,  for  her  own  reasons,  credited  him  with 
the  plan  of  ransom. 

They  tried  brokenly  to  tell  of  their  long  fear  and 
despair  in  the  strangers'  land,  —  and  of  sickness  and 
deaths  there.  Then  the  miracle  of  Tula  walking  by  the 
exalted  excellencia  of  that  great  place,  and  naming  one 
by  one  the  Palomitas  names,  forgetting  none ;  —  until  all 
who  lived  were  led  out  from  that  great  planting  place 
of  sugar  cane  and  maize,  and  their  feet  set  on  the 
northern  way. 

When  they  reached  this  joyous  part  of  the  recital 
words  failed,  and  they  wept  as  they  smiled  at  him  and 
touched  the  head  of  Tula  tenderly.  Even  a  gorgeous 
and  strange  mania  she  now  wore  was  pressed  to  the  lips 


THE  RETURN  OF  TULA  339 

of  women  who  were  soon  to  see  their  children  or  their 
desolate  mothers. 

His  eyes  grew  misty  as  they  thronged  about  her,  —  the 
slender  dark  child  of  the  breed  of  a  leader.  The  new 
mania  was  of  yellow  wool  and  cotton,  bordered  with 
dull  green  and  little  squares  of  flaming  scarlet  woven 
in  it  by  patient  Indian  hands  of  the  far  south  coast.  It 
made  her  look  a  bit  royal  in  the  midst  of  the  drab'-col- 
ored,  weary  band. 

She  seemed  scarcely  to  hear  their  praise,  or  their  sobs 
and  prayers.  Her  face  was  still  and  her  gaze  far  off 
and  brooding  as  her  fingers  stroked  the  curved  blade 
over  and  over. 

"An  Indian  stole  that  knife  from  the  German  after 
his  face  was  cut  with  it  by  her  sister,"  said  Marto 
Cavayso  quietly  while  the  vaqueros  were  helping  the 
weaker  refugees  to  mount,  two  to  each  animal.  "  That 
man  gives  it  to  her  at  the  place  where  Marta,  her 
mother,  died  in  the  night.  So  after  that  she  does  not 
sleep  or  eat  or  talk.  It  is  as  you  see." 

"I  see!  Take  you  the  others,  and  Tula  will  ride 
on  my  saddle,"  said  Kit  in  the  same  tone.  Then  he 
pointed  to  the  beautifully  worked  mania,  "Did  she 
squander  wealth  of  hers  on  that?" 

Marto  regarded  him  with  an  impatient  frown — it 
seemed  to  him  an  ill  moment  for  the  American  joke. 

"Tula  had  no  wealth,"  he  stated,  "we  lived  as  we 
could  on  the  fine  gold  you  gave  to  me  for  myself." 

"Oh  yes,  I  had  forgotten  that,"  declared  Kit  in  some 
wonder  at  this  information,  "but  manias  like  that  do 
not  grow  on  trees  in  Sonora." 


340 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

"  That  is  a  gift  from  the  very  grand  daughter  of  the 
General  Terain,"  said  Marto.  "Also  if  you  had  seen 
affairs  as  they  moved  there  at  Linda  Vista  you  would 
have  said  as  does  Ramon  Rotil,  that  this  one  is  daughter 
of  the  devil !  I  was  there,  and  with  my  eyes  I  saw  it, 
but  if  I  had  not,  —  an  angel  from  heaven  would  not  make 
me  believe!" 

"What  happened?" 

"  The  Virgin  alone  knows !  for  women  are  in  her  care, 
and  no  man  could  see.  As  ordered,  I  went  to  the  gates 
of  that  hacienda  very  grand.  Sangre  de  Christo!  if 
they  had  known  they  would  have  strung  me  to  a  tree 
and  filled  me  with  lead !  But  I  was  the  very  responsible 
vaquero  of  Rancho  Soledad  in  Altar  —  and  the  lizards  of 
guards  at  the  gate  had  no  moment  of  suspicion.  I  told 
them  the  Indian  girl  carried  a  letter  for  the  eyes  of 
their  mistress  and  the  sender  was  Dona  Jocasta  Perez. 
At  that  they  sent  some  messenger  on  the  run,  for  they 
say  the  Doiia  Dolores  is  fire  and  a  sword  to  any  servant 
of  theirs  who  is  slow  in  her  tasks." 

"I  heard  she  was  a  wonder  of  pride  and  beauty,"  said 
Kit.  "Did  you  see  her?" 

"That  came  later.  She  sent  for  Tula  who  would 
give  the  letter  to  no  one,  —  not  even  to  me.  The  guard 
divided  their  dinner  with  me  while  I  waited;  if  they 
were  doing  work  for  their  general  I  was  doing  work 
for  mine  and  learned  many  things  in  that  hour!  At 
last  Tula  came  walking  down  that  great  stair  made  from 
one  garden  to  another  where  laurel  trees  grow,  and  with 
her  walked  a  woman  out  of  the  sun.  There  is  no  other 
word,  senor,  for  that  woman!  Truly  she  is  of  gold 


THE  RETURN  OF  TULA  341 

and  rose;  her  mother's  family  were  of  old  Spain  and 
she  is  a  glory  to  any  day ! " 

"Did  you  feel  yourself  under  witchcraft  —  once 
more?"  queried  Kit. 

" Sangre  de  Christo!  Never  again!  But  Jose  Perez 
had  a  good  eye  for  making  choice  of  women,  —  that  is  a 
true  word !  So  Dona  Dolores  walked  down  to  the  drive 
with  that  mania  over  her  arm,  also  a  belt  in  her  hand, — 
a  belt  of  gold,  senor,  see ! " 

To  the  astonished  gaze  of  Kit  Rhodes  he  drew  from 
under  his  coat  the  burro-skin  belt  he  had  directed  the 
making  of  up  there  in  the  hidden  canon  of  El  Alisal. 
Marto  balanced  it  in  his  hand  appreciatively. 

"And  there  was  more  of  it  than  this!"  he  exulted, 
"  for  the  wray  on  the  railroad  was  paid  out  of  it  for  all 
the  Indians.  That  is  why  we  lost  two  days,  —  our  car 
was  put  on  a  side  track,  and  for  the  sick  it  was  worse 
than  to  walk  the  desert." 

"Yes;  well?" 

"  Dona  Dolores  got  in  a  fine  carriage  there.  Madre 
de  Dios!  what  horses!  White  as  snow  on  the  sierras, 
and  gold  on  all  the  harness!  Me,  I  am  dreaming  of 
them  since  that  hour!  They  got  in,  Tula  also  in  her 
poor  dress,  and  a  guard  told  me  to  follow  the  carriage. 
It  was  as  if  San  Gabriel  made  me  invitation  to  enter 
heaven!  Twenty  miles  we  went  through  that  planta 
tion,  a  deep  sea  of  cane,  sefior,  and  maize  of  a  tree  size, 
—  the  richness  there  is  riches  of  a  king.  Guards  were 
everywhere  and  peons  rode  ahead  to  inform  the  major- 
domo,  and  he  came  riding  like  devils  to  meet  Dona 
Dolores  Terain.  I  am  not  a  clever  man,  senor,  but  even 


342 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

I  could  see  that  never  before  had  the  lady  of  Linda 
Vista  made  herself  fatigue  by  a  plantation  ride  there, 
and  I  think  myself  he  had  a  scare  that  she  see  too  much ! 
At  the  first  when  Dona  Dolores  had  speech  with  him,  it 
was  easy  to  see  he  blamed  me,  and  his  eys  looked  once 
as  if  to  scorch  me  with  fire.  Then  she  pointed  to  the 
child  beside  her,  and  gave  some  orders,  and  he  sent  a 
guard  with  Tula  through  another  gate  into  a  great 
corral  where  men  and  women  were  packed  like  cattle. 
Senor,  I  have  been  in  battles,  but  I  never  heard  screams 
of  wounded  like  the  screams  of  joy  I  heard  in  that 
corral!  Some  of  these  Indians  dropped  like  dead  and 
were  carried  out  of  the  gate  that  way  as  Tula  stood 
inside  and  named  the  names. 

"When  it  was  over  that  woman  of  white  beauty  told 
that  manager  to  have  them  all  well  fed,  and  given  meat 
for  the  journey,  for  he  would  answer  to  the  general 
if  any  stroke  of  harm  came  to  anyone  of  them  on  the 
plantation  of  Linda  Vista.  Then  she  gave  to  my  hand 
the  belt  of  gold  to  care  for  the  poor  people  on  the  trail ;  — 
also  she  said  the  people  were  a  free  gift  to  Dona  Jocasta 
Perez,  and  there  was  no  ransom  to  pay.  Myself  I  think 
the  Dona  Dolores  had  happiness  to  tell  the  general,  her 
father,  that  Jose  Perez  had  a  wife,  for  that  plan  of 
marriage  was  but  for  politics.  Sangre  de  Christo!  what 
a  woman !  When  all  was  done  she  held  out  the  mania  to 
Tula,  and  her  smile  was  as  honey  of  the  mesquite,  and 
she  said,  "In  my  house  you  would  not  take  the  gift 
I  offered  you,  but  now  that  you  have  your  mother,  and 
your  friends  safe,  will  you  yet  be  so  proud  ?  "  and  Tula 
with  her  arms  around  her  mother,  stood  up  and  let  the 


THE  RETURN  OF  TULA  343 

thing  be  put  over  her  head  as  you  see,  and  that,  Sefior 
Capitan,  is  the  way  of  the  strange  mania  of  Tula." 

"And  that?"  queried  Kit,  indicating  the  belt.  Marto 
smiled  a  bit  sheepishly  and  lowered  his  voice  because  the 
last  of  the  horses  were  being  loaded  with  the  homesick 
human  freight,  and  the  chatter,  and  clatter  of  hoofs  had 
ceased  about  them. 

"Maybe  it  is  the  manta,  and  maybe  I  am  a  fool," 
he  confessed,  "but  she  told  me  to  spend  not  one  ounce 
beyond  what  was  needed,  for  it  was  to  use  only  for 
these  sick  and  poor  people  of  hers.  There  was  a  good 
game  going  on  in  that  train,  —  and  fools  playing !  I  could 
have  won  every  peso  if  I  had  put  up  only  a  little  handful 
of  the  nuggets.  That  is  why  I  think  my  general  knew 
when  he  said  she  was  the  devil,  for  she  stood  up  in 
that  straight  rich  garment  of  honor  and  looked  at  me  — 
only  looked,  not  one  spoken  word,  senor!  —  and  on  my 
soul  and  the  soul  of  my  mother,  the  wish  to  play  in  that 
game  went  away  from  me  in  that  minute,  and  did  not 
come  back!  How  does  a  man  account  for  a  thing  like 
that;  I  ask  you?" 

Kit  thought  of  that  first  night  on  the  treasure  trail  in 
the  mountain  above  them,  and  smiled. 

"I  can't  account  for  it,  though  I  do  recognize  the 
fact,"  he  answered.  "It  is  not  the  first  time  Tula  has 
ruled  an  outfit,  and  it  is  not  the  manta!" 

Then  he  walked  over  and  lifted  her  from  the  ground 
as  he  would  lift  a  child,  she  weighed  so  little  more! 

"Little  sister,"  he  said  kindly,  "now  that  you  are 
rested,  you  will  ride  my  horse  to  Soledad.  Your  big 
work  is  done  for  your  people.  All  is  finished." 


344  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

"No,  senor,  —  not  yet  is  the  finish,"  she  said  shaking 
her  head,  "not  yet!" 

Kit  felt  uncomfortably  the  weight  in  his  pocket  of 
the  key  of  Conrad's  room.  He  had  made  most  solemn 
promise  it  would  be  guarded  till  she  came.  He  had 
studied  up  some  logical  arguments  to  present  to  her 
attention  for  herding  the  German  across  the  border  as 
a  murderer  the  United  States  government  would  deal 
justice  to,  but  after  the  report  of  Marto  concerning  her 
long  trail,  and  the  death  of  her  mother  in  the  desert,  he 
did  not  feel  so  much  like  either  airing  ideas  or  asking 
questions.  He  was  rather  overwhelmed  by  the  knowledge 
that  she  had  not  allowed  even  Marto  to  guess  that  the 
bag  of  gold  was  her  very  own ! 

He  took  her  on  the  saddle  in  front  of  him  because 
she  drooped  so  wearily  there  alone,  and  her  head  sank 
against  his  shoulder  as  if  momentarily  she  was  glad 
to  be  thus  supported. 

"Poor  little  eaglet!"  he  said  affectionately,  "I  will 
take  you  north  to  Cap  Pike,  and  someone  else  who 
will  love  you  when  she  hears  all  this ;  and  in  other  years, 
quieter  years,  we  will  ride  again  into  Sonora,  and 

She  shook  her  head  against  his  shoulder,  and  he 
stopped  short. 

"Why,  Tula!"  he  began  in  remonstrance,  but  she 
lifted  her  hand  with  a  curious  gesture  of  finality. 

"Friend  of  me,"  she  said  in  a  small  voice  with  an 
undertone  of  sad  fatef ulness,  "  words  do  not  come  today. 
They  told  you  I  am  not  sleeping  on  this  home  trail,  and 
it  is  true.  I  kept  my  mother  alive  long  after  the  death 
birds  of  the  night  were  calling  for  her  —  it  is  so!  Also 


THE  RETURN  OF  TULA 345 

today  at  the  dawn  the  same  birds  called  above  me,  —  above 
me!  and  look ! " 

They  had  reached  the  summit  of  the  valley's  wall  and 
for  a  half  mile  ahead  the  others  were  to  be  seen  on  the 
trail  to  Soledad,  but  it  was  not  there  she  pointed,  but  to 
the  northeast  where  a  dark  cloud  hung  over  the  moun 
tains.  Its  darkness  was  cleft  by  one  lance  of  lightning, 
but  it  was  too  far  away  for  sound  of  thunder  to  reach 
them. 

"  See  you  not  that  the  cloud  in  the  sky  is  like  a  bird,  — 
a  dark  angry  bird  ?  Also  it  is  over  the  trail  to  the  north, 
but  it  is  not  for  you,  —  /  am  the  one  first  to  see  it !  Senor, 
I  will  tell  you,  but  I  telling  no  other —  I  think  my 
people  are  calling  me  all  the  time,  in  every  way  I  look 
now.  I  no  knowing  how  I  go  to  them,  but  —  I  think  I 
go!" 


CHAPTER  XX 

EAGLE    AND    SERPENT 

MARTO  CAVAYSO  gave  to  Kit  Rhodes  the  burro- 
skin  belt  and  a  letter  from  Dona  Dolores  Terain 
to  the  wife  of  Jose  Perez. 

"My  work  is  ended  at  the  hacienda  until  the  mules 
come  back  for  more  guns,  and  I  will  take  myself  to  the 
adobe  beyond  the  corrals  for  what  rest  there  may  be. 
You  are  capitan  under  my  general,  so  this  goes  to  you 
for  the  people  of  the  girl  he  had  a  heart  for.  Myself, — 
I  like  little  their  coyote  whines  and  yells.  It  may  be  a 
giving  of  thanks,  or  it  may  be  a  mourning  for  dead, 
—  but  it  sounds  to  me  like  an  anthem  made  in  hell." 

He  referred  to  the  greeting  songs  of  the  returned 
exiles,  and  the  wails  for  the  dead  left  behind  on  the  trail. 
The  women  newly  come  from  Palomitas  sat  circled  on 
the  plaza,  and  as  food  or  drink  was  offered  each,  a  por 
tion  was  poured  on  the  sand  as  a  libation  to  the  ghosts 
of  the  lately  dead,  and  the  name  of  each  departed  was 
included  in  the  wailing  chant  sung  over  and  over. 

It  was  a  weird,  hypnotic  thing,  made  more  so  by  the 
curious  light,  yellow  and  green  in  the  sky,  preceding  that 
dark  cloud  coming  slowly  with  sound  of  cannonading 
from  the  north.  Though  the"  sun  had  not  set,  half  the 
sky  was  dark  over  the  eastern  sierras. 

346 


EAGLE  AND  SERPENT 347 

"  The  combination  is  enough  to  give  even  a  sober  man 
the  jim-jams,"  agreed  Kit.  "Dona  Jocasta  is  sick  with 
fear  of  them,  and  has  gone  in  to  pray  as  far  from  the 
sound  as  possible.  The  letter  will  go  to  her,  and  the 
belt  will  go  to  Tula  who  may  thank  you  another  day. 
This  day  of  the  coming  back  she  is  not  herself." 

"Mother  of  God!  that  is  a  true  word.  No  girl  or 
woman  is  like  that ! " 

The  priest,  who  had  talked  with  the  sick  and  weary, 
and  listened  to  their  sobs  of  the  degradation  of  the  slave 
trail,  had  striven  to  speak  with  Tula,  who  with  head 
slightly  drooped  looked  at  him  under  her  straight  brows 
as  though  listening  to  childish  things. 

"  See  you ! "  muttered  Marto.  "  That  mania  must 
have  been  garb  of  some  king's  daughter,  and  no  common 
maid.  It  makes  her  a  different  thing.  Would  you  not 
think  the  padre  some  underling,  and  she  a  ruler  giving 
laws?" 

For,  seated  as  she  was,  in  a  chair  with  arms,  her  robe 
of  honor  reached  straight  from  her  chin  to  her  feet,  giv 
ing  her  appearance  of  greater  height  than  she  was  pos 
sessed  of,  and  the  slender  banda  holding  her  hair  was  of 
the  same  scarlet  of  the  broideries.  Kit  remembered  call 
ing  her  a  young  Cleopatra  even  in  her  rags,  and  now  he 
knew  she  looked  it! 

He  was  not  near  enough  to  hear  the  words  of  the 
priest,  but  with  all  his  energy  he  was  striving  to  win 
her  to  some  view  of  his.  She  listened  in  long  silence 
until  he  ceased. 

Then  her  hand  went  under  her  mania  and  drew  out 
the  curved  knife. 


348 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

She  spoke  one  brief  sentence,  and  lifted  the  blade  over 
her  head.  It  caught  the  light  of  the  hovering  sun,  and 
the  Indians  near  enough  to  hear  her  words  set  up  a 
scream  of  such  unearthly  emotion  that  the  priest  turned 
ashen,  and  made  the  sign  to  ward  off  evil. 

It  was  merely  coincidence  that  a  near  flash  of  light 
ning  flamed  from  the  heavens  as  she  lifted  the  knife, — 
but  it  inspired  every  Indian  to  a  crashing  cry  of  exulta 
tion. 

And  it  did  not  end  there,  for  a  Palomitas  woman  had 
carried  across  the  desert  a  small  drum  of  dried  skin 
stretched  over  a  hollow  log,  and  at  the  words  of  Tula 
she  began  a  soft  tum-tum-tum-tum  on  the  hidden  instru 
ment.  The  sound  was  at  first  as  a  far  echo  of  the 
thunder  back  of  the  dark  cloud,  and  the  voices  of  the 
women  shrilled  their  emphasis  as  the  drum  beat  louder, 
or  the  thunder  came  nearer. 

Kit  Rhodes  decided  Marto  was  entirely  correct  as  to 
the  inspiration  back  of  that  anthem. 

" Sangre  de  Christo!  look  at  that!"  muttered  Marto, 
who  meant  to  turn  his  back  on  the  entire  group,  yet  was 
held  by  the  fascination  of  the  unexpected. 

Four  Indian  youths  with  a  huge  and  furious  bull  came 
charging  down  the  mesa  towards  the  corral.  A  reata 
fastened  to  each  horn  and  hind  foot  of  the  animal  was 
about  the  saddle  horn  of  a  boy,  and  the  raging  bellow 
ing  creature  was  held  thus  at  safe  distance  from  all.  The 
boys,  shouting  with  their  joy  of  victory,  galloped  past 
the  plaza  to  where  four  great  stakes  had  already  been 
driven  deep  in  the  hard  ground.  To  those  stakes  the 
bull  would  be  tied  until  the  burden  was  ready  for  his 


EAGLE  AND  SERPENT  349 

back  —  and  his  burden  would  be  what  was  left  of 
"Judas"  when  the  women  of  the  slave  trail  got  through 
with  him! 

"God  the  father  knows  I  am  a  man  of  no  white 
virtues,"  muttered  Marto  eyeing  the  red-eyed  maddened 
brute,  "but  here  is  my  vow  to  covet  no  comradeship  of 
aught  in  the  shape  of  woman  in  the  district  of  Altar  — 
bred  of  the  devil  are  they!" 

He  followed  after  to  the  corral  to  watch  the  tying  of 
the  creature,  around  which  the  Indian  men  were  gath 
ered  at  a  respectful  distance. 

But  Rhodes,  after  one  glance  at  the  bellowing  as 
sistant  of  Indian  vengeance,  found  himself  turning  again 
to  Tula  and  the  padre.  That  wild  wail  and  the  under 
tone  of  the  drum  was  getting  horribly  on  his  nerves,  —  yet 
he  could  not  desert,  as  had  Marto. 

Tula  sat  as  before,  but  with  the  knife  held  in  her  open 
hand  on  the  arm  of  the  chair.  She  followed  with  a 
grim  smile  the  careering  of  the  bull,  then  nodded  her 
head  curtly  to  the  priest  and  turned  her  gaze  slowly 
round  the  corridor  until  she  saw  Rhodes,  and  tilted  back 
her  head  in  a  little  gesture  of  summons. 

"Well,  little  sister,"  he  said,  "what's  on  your 
mind?" 

"  The  padre  asks  to  pray  with  El  Aleman.  I  say  yes, 
for  the  padre  has  good  thoughts  in  his  heart,  —  maybe 
so!  You  have  the  key?" 

"  Sure  I  have  the  key,  but  I  fetch  it  back  to  you  when 
visitors  start  going  in,  and  —  oh  yes  —  there's  your  belt 
for  your  people." 

"  No ;  you  be  the  one  to  give,"  she  said  with  a  glance 


350 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

of  sorrow  towards  a  girl  who  was  youngest  of  the  slaves 
brought  back.  "  You,  amigo,  keep  all  but  the  key." 

"  As  you  say,"  he  agreed.  "  Come  along,  padre,  you 
are  to  get  the  privilege  you've  been  begging  for,  and  I 
don't  envy  you  the  task." 

Padre  Andreas  made  no  reply.  In  his  heart  he  blamed 
Rhodes  that  the  prisoner  had  not  been  let  escape  during 
the  absence  of  the  girl,  and  also  resented  the  offhand 
manner  of  the  young  American  concerning  the  duty  of  a 
priest. 

The  sun  was  at  the  very  edge  of  the  world,  and  all 
shadows  spreading  for  the  night  when  they  went  to  the 
door  of  Conrad's  quarters.  Kit  unlocked  the  door  and 
looked  in  before  opening  wide.  The  one  window  faced 
the  corral,  and  Conrad  turned  from  it  in  shaking  horror. 

"  What  is  it  they  say  out  there  ?  "  he  shouted  in  fury. 
"They  call  words  of  blasphemy,  that  the  bull  is  Ger 
many,  and  'Judas'  will  ride  it  to  the  death!  They  are 
wild  barbarians,  they  are " 

"  Never  mind  what  they  are,"  suggested  Kit,  "  here  is 
a  priest  who  thinks  you  may  have  a  soul  worth  praying 
for,  and  the  Indians  have  let  him  come  —  once!" 

Then  he  let  the  priest  in  and  locked  the  door,  going 
back  to  Tula  with  the  key.  She  sat  where  he  had  left 
her,  and  was  crooning  again  the  weird  tuneless  dirge 
at  which  Marto  had  been  appalled. 

But  she  handed  him  a  letter. 

"Marto  forgot.  It  was  with  the  Chinaman  trader 
at  the  railroad,"  she  said  and  went  placidly  on  fondling 
the  key  as  she  had  fondled  the  knife,  and  pitching  her 
voice  in  that  curious  falsetto  dear  to  Indian  ceremonial. 


EAGLE  AND  SERPENT 351 

He  could  scarce  credit  the  letter  as  intended  for  him 
self,  as  it  was  addressed  in  a  straggling  hand  filling  all 
the  envelope,  to  Capitan  Christofero  Rhodes,  Manager 
of  Rancho  Soledad,  District  of  Altar,  Sonora,  Mexico, 
and  in  one  corner  was  written,  "By  courtesy  of  Sefior 
Fidelio  Lopez,"  and  the  date  within  a  week.  He  opened 
it,  and  walked  out  to  the  western  end  of  the  corridor 
where  the  light  was  yet  good,  though  through  the  barred 
windows  he  could  see  candles  already  lit  in  the  shadowy 
sala. 

The  letter  was  from  Cap  Pike,  and  in  the  midst  of  all 
the  accumulated  horror  about  him,  Kit  was  conscious  of 
a  great  homesick  leap  of  the  heart  as  he  skimmed  the 
page  and  found  her  name  —  "Billie  is  all  right!" 

How  are  you,  Capitan?  (began  the  letter).  That  fellow 
Fidelio  rode  into  the  cantina  here  at  La  Partida  today.  He 
asked  a  hell's  slew  of  questions  about  you,  and  Billie  and  me 
nearly  had  fits,  for  we  thought  you  were  sure  dead  or  held 
for  ransom,  and  I  give  it  to  you  straight,  Kit,  there  isn't  a 
peso  left  on  the  two  ranchos  to  ransom  even  Baby  Buntin'  if 
the  little  rat  is  still  alive,  and  that  ain't  all  Kit:  it  don't 
seem  possible  that  Conrad  and  Singleton  mortgaged  both 
ranches  clear  up  to  the  hilt,  but  it  sure  has  happened,  every 
acre  is  plastered  with  ten  per  cent  paper  and  the  compound 
interest  strips  it  from  Billie  just  as  sure  as  if  it  was  droppin' 
through  to  China.  When  Conrad  was  on  the  job  he  had  it 
all  blanketed,  but  now  saltpeter  can't  save  it  without  cash. 
Billie  is  all  right,  but  some  peaked  with  worry.  So  am  I. 
But  you  cheer  up,  for  I  got  plans  for  a  hike  up  into  Pinal 
County  for  us  three  on  a  search  for  the  Lost  Dutchman 
Mine,  lost  fifty  years  and  I  have  a  hunch  we  can  find  it,  got 
the  dope  from  an  old  half  breed  who  knew  the  Dutchman. 
So  don't  you  worry  about  trailing  home  broke.  The  Fidelio 


352  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

hombre  said  to  look  for  you  in  six  days  after  Easter,  and 
meet  you  with  water  at  the  Rio  Seco,  so  we'll  do  that.  He 
called  you  capitan  and  said  the  Deliverer  had  made  you  an 
officer ;  how  about  it?  He  let  loose  a  line  of  talk  about  your 
two  women  in  the  outfit,  but  I  sort  of  stalled  him  on  that, 
so  Billie  wouldn't  get  it,  for  I  reckon  that's  a  greaser  lie,  Kit, 
and  you  ain't  hitched  up  to  no  gay  Juanita  down  there.  I 
had  a  monkey  and  parrot  time  to  explain  even  that  Tula 
squaw  to  Billie,  for  she  didn't  savvy  —  not  a  copper  cent's 
worth !  She  is  right  here  now  instructin'  me,  but  I  won't  let 
her  read  this,  so  don't  you  worry.  She  says  to  tell  you  it 
looks  at  last  like  our  old  eagle  bird  will  have  a  chance  to  flop 
its  wings  in  France.  The  pair  of  us  is  near  about  cross-eyed 
from  watchin'  the  south  trail  into  Altar,  and  the  east  trail 
where  the  troops  will  go !  She  says  even  if  we  are  broke 
there  is  an  adobe  for  you  at  Vijil's,  and  a  range  for  Buntin' 
and  Pardner.  Billie  rides  Pardner  now  instead  of  Pat. 

I  reckon  that's  all  Kit,  and  I've  worked  up  a  cramp  on  this 
anyway.  I  figured  that  maybe  you  laid  low  down  there  till 
the  Singleton  murder  was  cleared  up,  but  I  can  alibi  you  on 
that  O.  K.,  when  Johnny  comes  marchin'  home!  So  don't 
you  worry. 

Yours  truly, 

PIKE. 

He  read  it  over  twice,  seeking  out  the  lines  with  her 
name  and  dwelling  on  them.  So  Billie  was  riding  Pard 
ner, —  and  Billie  had  a  camp  ready  for  him,  —  and  Billie 
couldn't  savvy  even  a  little  Indian  girl  in  his  outfit  — 
say! 

He  was  smiling  at  that  with  a  very  warm  glow  in  his 
heart  for  the  resentment  of  Billie.  He  could  just  im 
agine  Pike's  monkey  and  parrot  time  trying  to  make 
Billie  understand  accidents  of  the  trail  in  Sonora.  He 
would  make  that  all  clear  when  he  got  back  to  God's 


EAGLE  AND  SERPENT  353 

country!  And  the  little  heiress  of  Granados  ranchos 
was  only  an  owner  of  debt-laden  acres,  —  couldn't  raise  a 
peso  to  ransom  even  the  little  burro!  Well,  he  was 
glad  she  rode  Pardner  instead  of  another  horse;  that 
showed 

Then  he  smiled  again,  and  drifted  into  dreams.  He 
would  let  Bunting  travel  light  to  the  Rio  Seco,  and  then 
load  him  for  her  as  no  burro  ever  was  loaded  to  cross 
the  border!  He  wondered  if  she'd  tell  him  again  he 
couldn't  hold  a  foreman's  job?  He  wondered 

And  then  he  felt  a  light  touch  on  his  arm,  and  turned 
to  see  the  starlike  beauty  of  Dona  Jocasta  beside  him. 
Truly  the  companionship  of  Dona  Jocasta  might  be  a 
more  difficult  thing  to  explain  than  that  of  the  Indian 
girl  of  a  slave  raid! 

Her  face  was  blanched  with  fear,  and  her  touch 
brought  him  back  from  his  vision  of  God's  country  to  the 
tom-tom,  and  the  weird  chant,  and  the  thunder  of  storm 
coming  nearer  and  nearer  in  the  twilight. 

"  Senor ! "  she  breathed  in  terror,  "  even  on  my  knees 
in  prayer  it  is  not  for  anyone  to  shut  out  this  music  of 
demons.  Look!  Yesterday  she  was  a  child  of  courage 
and  right,  but  what  is  she  today?" 

She  pointed  to  Tula  and  clung  to  him,  for  in  all  the 
wild  chorus  Tula  was  the  leader,  —  she  who  had  the 
words  of  ancient  days  from  the  dead  Miguel.  She  sat 
there  as  one  enthroned  draped  in  that  gorgeous  thing, 
fit,  as  Marto  said,  for  a  king's  daughter,  while  the  others 
sat  in  the  plaza  or  rested  on  straw  and  blankets  in  the 
corridor  looking  up  at  her  and  shrilling  savage  echoes  to 
the  words  she  chanted. 


354  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

"  And  that  animal,  —  I  saw  it ! "  moaned  Dona  Jocasta. 
"  Mother  of  God !  that  I  should  deny  a  priest  who  would 
only  offer  prayers  for  that  wicked  one  who  is  to  be 
tortured  on  it!  Senor,  for  the  love  of  God  give  me  a 
horse  and  let  me  go  into  the  desert  to  that  storm,  any 
place,  —  any  place  out  of  sight  and  sound  of  this  most 
desolate  house!  The  merciful  God  himself  has  forsaken 
Soledad ! " 

As  she  spoke  he  realized  that  time  had  passed  while 
he  read  and  re-read  and  dreamed  a  dream  because  of 
the  letter.  The  sun  was  far  out  of  sight,  only  low  hues 
of  yellow  and  blue  melting  into  green  to  show  the  il 
lumined  path  it  had  taken.  By  refraction  rays  of  copper 
light  reached  the  zenith  and  gave  momentarily  an  un 
earthly  glow  to  the  mesa  and  far  desert,  but  it  was  only 
as  a  belated  flash,  for  the  dusk  of  night  touched  the  edge 
of  it. 

And  the  priest  locked  in  with  Conrad  had  been  for 
gotten  by  him !  At  any  moment  that  girl  with  the  key 
might  give  some  signal  for  the  ceremony,  whatever  it 
was,  of  the  death  of  the  German  beast! 

"  Sure,  senora,  I  promise  you,"  he  said  soothingly, 
patting  her  hand  clinging  to  him.  "There  is  my  horse 
in  the  plaza,  and  there  is  Marto's.  We  will  get  the 
padre,  and  both  of  you  can  ride  to  the  little  adobe 
down  the  valley  where  Elena's  old  father  lives.  He  is 
Mexican,  not  Indian.  It  is  better  even  to  kneel  in  prayer 
there  all  the  night  than  to  try  to  rest  in  Soledad  while 
this  lasts.  At  the  dawn  I  will  surely  go  for  you.  Come, 
—  we  will  ask  for  the  key." 

Together  they  approached   Tula,   whose  eyes   stared 


EAGLE  AND  SERPENT  355 

straight  out  seeing  none  of  the  dark  faces  lifted  to  hers, 
she  seemed  not  to  see  Kit  who  stopped  beside  her. 

"Little  sister,"  he  said,  touching  her  shoulder,  "the 
padre  waits  to  be  let  out  of  the  room  of  El  Aleman,  and 
the  key  is  needed." 

She  nodded  her  head,  and  held  up  the  key. 

"Let  me  be  the  one,"  begged  Dona  Jocasta,  —  "I 
should  do  penance !  I  was  not  gentle  in  my  words  to  the 
padre,  yet  he  is  a  man  of  God,  and  devoted.  Let  me  be 
the  one!" 

The  Indian  girl  looked  up  at  that,  and  drew  back  the 
key.  Then  some  memory,  perhaps  that  kneeling  of 
Dona  Jocasta  with  the  women  of  Palomitas,  influenced 
her  to  trust,  and  after  a  glance  at  Kit  she  nodded  her 
head  and  put  the  key  in  her  hand. 

"You,  sefior,  have  the  horses,"  implored  Dona  Jo 
casta,  "and  I  will  at  once  come  with  Padre  Andreas." 

"  Pronto ! "  agreed  Kit,  "  but  I  must  get  you  a  serape. 
Rain  may  fall  from  that  cloud." 

She  seemed  scarcely  to  hear  him  as  she  sped  along  the 
patio  towards  the  locked  door.  Kit  entered  his  own 
room  for  a  blanket  just  as  she  fitted  the  key  in  the  lock, 
and  spoke  the  padre's  name. 

The  next  instant  he s  heard  her  screams,  and  a  door 
slam  shut,  and  as  he  came  out  with  the  blanket,  he  saw 
the  priest  dash  toward  the  portal  leading  from  the  patio 
to  the  plaza. 

He  ran  to  her,  lifting  her  from  the  tiles  where  she 
had  been  thrown. 

"Conrad!"  she  cried  pointing  after  the  flying  figure. 
"  There !  Quickly,  senor,  quickly !  " 


356 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

He  jerked  open  the  door  and  looked  within,  a  still 
figure  with  the  face  hidden,  crouched  by  a  bench  against 
the  wall.  In  two  strides  Kit  crossed  from  the  door  and 
grasped  the  shoulder,  and  the  figure  propped  there  fell 
back  on  the  tiles.  It  was  the  dead  priest  dressed  in  the 
clothes  of  Conrad,  and  the  horror  of  that  which  had 
been  a  face  showed  he  had  died  by  strangulation  under 
the  hands  of  the  man  for  whom  he  had  gone  to  pray. 

Dona  Jocasta  ran  wildly  screaming  through  the  patio, 
but  the  Indian  voices  and  the  drum  prevented  her  from 
being  heard  until  she  burst  among  them  just  as  Conrad 
leaped  to  the  back  of  the  nearest  horse. 

"  El  Aleman !  El  Aleman ! "  she  screamed  pointing  to 
him  in  horror.  "  He  has  murdered  the  padre  and  taken 
his  robe.  It  is  El  Aleman !  Your  Judas  has  killed  your 
priest ! " 

Kit  ran  for  his  own  horse,  but  with  the  quickness  of 
a  cat  Tula  was  before  him  in  the  saddle,  and  whirling 
the  animal,  leaning  low,  and  her  gorgeous  mania  stream 
ing  behind  like  a  banner  she  sped  after  the  German 
screaming,  "Judas!  Judas!  Judas  of  Palomitas!" 

And,  as  in  the  other  chants  led  by  her,  the  Indian 
women  took  up  this  one  in  frenzied  yells  of  rage. 

The  men  of  the  corral  heard  and  leaped  to  saddles  to 
follow  the  flying  figures,  but  Kit  was  ahead,  —  not  much, 
but  enough  to  be  nearest  the  girl. 

Straight  as  an  arrow  the  fugitive  headed  for  Mesa 
Blanca,  the  nearest  ranch  where  a  fresh  horse  could  be 
found,  and  Dona  Jocasta  and  some  of  the  women  with 
out  horses  stood  in  the  plaza  peering  after  that  wild  race 
in  the  gray  of  the  coming  night. 


EAGLE  AND  SERPENT 357 

A  flash  of  lightning  outlined  the  three  ahead,  and  a 
wail  of  utter  terror  went  up  from  them  all. 

"  Mother  of  God,  the  canon  of  the  quicksand ! "  cried 
Dona  Jocasta. 

"Tula!  Tula!  Tula!"  shrilled  the  Indian  women. 

Tula  was  steadily  gaining  on  the  German,  and  Kit 
was  only  a  few  rods  behind  as  they  dashed  down  the 
slight  incline  to  that  too  green  belt  in  the  floor  of  the 
brown  desert. 

He  heard  someone,  Marto  he  thought,  shouting  his 
name  and  calling  "  Sumidero!  Sumidero!"  He  did  not 
understand,  and  kept  right  on.  Others  were  shouting  at 
Tula  with  as  little  result,  the  clatter  of  the  horses  and 
the  rumble  of  the  breaking  storm  made  all  a  formless 
chaos  of  sound. 

The  frenzied  scream  of  a  horse  came  to  him,  and  an 
other  lightning  flash  showed  Conrad,  ghastly  and  star 
ing,  leap  from  the  saddle  —  in  the  middle  of  the  little 
valley  —  and  Tula  ride  down  on  top  of  him! 

Then  a  rope  fell  around  Kit's  shoulders,  pinioning  his 
arms  and  he  was  jerked  from  the  horse  with  a  thud 
that  for  a  space  stunned  him  into  semi-unconsciousness, 
but  through  it  he  heard  again  the  pitiful  scream  of  a 
dumb  animal,  and  shouts  of  Marto  to  the  frenzied 
Indians. 

"Ha!  Clodomiro,  the  reata!  Wait  for  the  lightning, 
then  over  her  shoulders!  Only  the  horse  is  caught;  — 
steady  and  a  true  hand,  boy !  Ai-yi !  You  are  master, 
and  the  Mother  of  God  is  your  help!  Run  your  horse 
back,  —  run,  curse  you!  or  she  will  sink  as  he  sinks! 
Sangre  de  Christ o!  she  cuts  the  reata!" 


358 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

Kit  struggled  out  of  the  rope,  and  got  to  his  feet  in 
time  to  see  the  flash  of  her  knife  as  she  whirled  to  her 
victim.  Again  and  again  it  descended  as  the  man,  now 
submerged  to  the  waist,  caught  her.  His  screams  of 
fear  were  curdling  to  the  blood,  but  high  above  the  Ger 
man  voice  of  fear  sounded  the  Indian  voice  of  triumph, 
and  from  the  vengeful  cry  of  "Judas!  Judas!  Judas 
of  the  world ! "  her  voice  turned  sharply  to  the  high 
clear  chant  Kit  had  heard  in  the  hidden  canon  of  the 
red  gold.  It  was  as  she  said  —  there  would  be  none  of 
her  caste  and  clan  to  sing  her  death  song  to  the  waiting 
ghosts,  and  she  was  singing  it. 

As  those  weird  triumphant  calls  went  out  from  the 
place  of  death  every  Indian  answered  them  with  shouts  as 
of  fealty,  and  in  the  darkness  Kit  felt  as  if  among  a 
circle  of  wolves  giving  tongue  in  some  signal  not  to 
be  understood  by  men. 

He  could  hear  the  sobs  of  men  and  boys  about  him, 
but  not  a  measure  of  that  wild  wail  failed  to  bring  the 
ever  recurring  response  from  the  brown  throats. 

Marto,  wet  and  trembling,  cursed  and  prayed  at  the 
horror  of  it,  and  moved  close  to  Kit  in  the  darkness. 

"Jesus,  Maria,  and  Jose!"  he  muttered  in  a  choked 
whisper,  "one  would  think  the  fathers  of  these  devils 
had  never  been  christened!  Sangre  de  Christo!  look  at 
that!" 

For  in  a  vivid  sheet  of  lightning  they  saw  a  terrible 
thing. 

Tula,  on  the  shoulders  of  the  man,  stood  up  for  one 
wavering  instant  and  with  both  hands  raised  high,  she 
flung  something  far  out  from  her  where  the  sands  were 


EAGLE  AND  SERPENT 369 

firm  for  all  but  things  of  weight.  Then  her  high  tri 
umphant  call  ended  sharply  in  the  darkness  as  she  cast 
herself  forward.  She  died  as  her  sister  had  died,  and 
on  the  same  knife. 

Dona  Jocasta  stumbled  from  a  horse,  and  clung  to  Kit 
in  terror.  "Mother  of  God!"  she  sobbed.  "It  is  as  I 
said!  She  is  the  Eagle  of  Mexico,  and  she  died  clean  — 
with  the  Serpent  under  her  feet!" 

In  a  dawn  all  silver  and  gold  and  rose  after  the  storm, 
there  was  only  a  trace  at  the  edge  of  the  sand  where  two 
horses  had  carried  riders  to  the  treacherous  smiling 
arroya  over  which  a  coyote  would  not  cross. 

And  one  of  the  Indian  women  of  Palomitas  tied  a 
reata  around  the  body  of  her  baby  son,  and  sent  him  to 
creep  out  as  a  turtle  creeps  to  that  thing  cast  by  Tula 
to  the  women  cheated  of  their  Judas. 

The  slender  naked  boy  went  gleefully  to  the  task  as 
to  a  new  game,  and  spit  in  the  dead  face  as  he  dragged 
it  with  him  to  his  mother  who  had  pride  in  him. 

It  was  kicked  before  the  women  back  over  the  desert 
to  Soledad,  and  the  boys  used  it  for  football  that  day, 
and  tied  what  was  left  of  it  between  the  horns  of  the 
roped  wild  bull  at  the  corral.  The  bellowing  of  the 
bull  when  cut  loose  came  as  music  to  the  again  placid 
Indian  women  of  Palomitas.  They  were  ready  for  the 
home  trail  with  their  exiles.  It  had  been  a  good  ending, 
and  their  great  holiday  at  Soledad  was  over. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

EACH   TO   HIS  OWN 

A  STRAGGLING  train  of  pack  mules  followed  by 
a  six-mule  wagon,  trailed  parst  Yaqui  Springs  ten 
days  later,  and  was  met  there  by  the  faithful  Chappo  and 
two  villainous  looking  comrades,  who  had  cleaned  out 
the  water  holes  and  stood  guard  over  them  until  arrival 
of  the  ammunition  train. 

"For  beyond  is  a  dry  hell  for  us,  and  on  the  other 
side  the  Deliverer  is  circled  by  enemy  fighters  who  would 
trap  him  in  his  own  land.  He  lies  hid  like  a  fox  in  the 
hills  waiting  for  this  you  bring.  Water  must  not  fail, 
and  mules  must  not  fail;  for  that  am  I  here  to  give 
the  word  for  haste." 

"  But  even  forty  mule  loads  will  not  serve  him  long," 
said  Kit  doubtfully. 

"Like  c.  fox  in  the  hills  I  tell  you,  Sefior  Capitan, — 
and  only  one  way  into  the  den!  Beyond  the  enemy  he 
has  other  supplies  safe  —  this  is  to  fight  his  way  to  it. 
After  that  he  will  go  like  a  blaze  through  dry  meadows 
of  zacatan." 

Kit  would  have  made  camp  there  for  the  night,  but 
Chappo  protested. 

"  No,  sefior !  Every  drop  in  the  sand  here  is  for  the 
mules  of  the  army.  It  is  not  my  word,  it  is  the  word  of 

360 


EACH  TO  HIS  OWN  361 

my  general.  Four  hours  north  you  will  find  Little 
Coyote  well.  One  day  more  and  at  the  crossing  of  Rio 
Seco,  water  will  be  waiting  from  the  cold  wells  of  La 
Partida.  It  is  so  arrange,  senor,  and  the  safe  trail  is 
made  for  you  and  for  excellencia,  the  senora.  In  God's 
name,  take  all  your  own,  and  go  in  peace!" 

"  But  the  senora  is  weary  to  death,  and " 

"That  is  true,  Capitan,"  spoke  Dona  Jocasta,  who 
drooped  in  the  saddle  like  a  wilted  flower.  "  But  the 
senora  will  not  die,  and  if  she  does  it  is  not  so  much 
loss  as  the  smallest  of  the  soldiers  of  El  Gavilan.  We 
will  go  on,  and  go  quickly,  see!  —  there  is  yet  water  in 
the  cantin,  and  four  hours  of  trail  is  soon  over/' 

Ugly  Chappo  came  shyly  forward  and,  uncovered, 
touched  the  hem  of  her  skirt  to  his  lips. 

"The  high  heart  of  the  excellencia  gives  life  to  the 
men  who  fight,"  he  said  and  thrust  his  hand  in  a  pocket 
fastened  to  his  belt.  "This  is  to  you  from  the  De 
liverer,  senora.  His  message  is  that  it  brought  to  him 
the  lucky  trail,  and  he  would  wish  the  same  to  the 
Dona  Jocasta  Perez." 

It  was  the  little  cross,  once  sent  back  to  her  by  a  peon 
in  bitterness  of  soul,  and  now  sent  by  a  general  of 
Mexico  with  the  blessing  of  a  soldier. 

"  Tell  him  Jocasta  takes  it  as  a  gift  of  God,  and  his 
name  is  in  her  prayers,"  she  said  and  turned  away. 

Clodomiro  pushed  forward,  —  a  very  different  Qodo- 
miro,  for  the  fluttering  bands  of  color  were  gone  from 
his  arms  and  his  hair  —  the  heart  of  the  would-be  bride 
groom  was  no  longer  his.  He  was  stripped  as  for  the 
trail  or  for  war,  and  fastened  to  his  saddle  was  the 


362 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

gun  and  ammunition  he  had  won  from  Cavayso  who 
had  gone  quickly  onward  with  his  detachment  of  the 
pack. 

But  Clodomiro  halted  beside  Chappo,  regardless  of 
need  for  haste  on  the  trail,  and  asked  him  things  in  that 
subdued  Indian  tone  without  light,  shade,  or  accent, 
in  which  ,the  brown  brothers  of  the  desert  veil  their 
intimate  discourse. 

"  There,  beyond ! "  said  Chappo,  "  two  looks  on  the 
trail,"  and  he  pointed  west.  "  Two  looks  and  one  water 
hole,  and  if  wind  moves  the  sand  no  one  can  find  the 
way  where  we  go.  It  is  not  a  trail  for  boys." 

"I  am  not  now  a  boy,"  said  Clodomiro,  "and  when 
the  safety  trail  of  the  sefiora  is  over " 

But  Chappo  waved  him  onward,  for  the  wagon  and 
the  pack  mules,  and  even  little  gray  Bunting  had  turned 
reluctant  feet  north. 

Clodomiro  had  come  from  Soledad  because  Elena, — 
who  never  had  been  out  of  sight  of  the  old  adobe  walls,  — 
sat  on  the  ground  wailing  at  thought  of  leaving  her  old 
sick  father  and  going  to  war,  for  despite  all  the  per 
suasions  of  Dona  Jocasta,  Elena  knew  what  she  knew, 
and  did  not  at  all  believe  that  any  of  them  would  see 
the  lands  of  the  Americano, — not  with  pack  mules  of 
Ramon  Rotil  laden  with  guns! 

"If  Tula  had  lived,  no  other  would  have  been  asked," 
Rhodes  had  stated.  "But  one  is  needed  to  make  camp 
for  the  senora  on  the  trail, — and  to  me  the  work  of  the 
packs  and  the  animals." 

"That  I  can  do,"  Clodomiro  offered.  "My  thought 
was  to  go  where  Tula  said  lovers  of  hers  must  go,  and 


EACH  TO  HIS  OWN  363 

that  was  to  El  Gavilan.  But  this  different  thing  can 
also  be  my  work  to  the  safe  wells  of  the  American.  That 
far  I  go." 

Thus  the  three  turned  north  from  the  war  trail,  and 
Clodomiro  followed,  after  making  a  prayer  that  the 
desert  wind  would  hear,  and  be  very  still,  and  fill  no 
track  made  by  the  mules  with  the  ammunition. 

This  slight  discussion  at  the  parting  of  the  ways  con 
cerning  two  definite  things,  —  need  of  haste,  and  conserv 
ing  of  water,  —  left  no  moment  for  thought  or  query  of 
the  packs  of  furnishings  deemed  of  use  to  Senora  Perez 
in  her  removal  to  the  north. 

Dona  Jocasta  herself  had  asked  no  question  and  taken 
no  interest  in  them.  Stripped  of  all  sign  of  wealth  and 
in  chains,  she  had  ridden  into  Soledad,  and  in  comfort 
and  much  courtesy  she  was  being  conducted  elsewhere. 
How  long  it  might  endure  she  did  not  know,  and  no 
power  of  hers  could  change  the  fact  that  she  had  been 
made  wife  of  Jose  Perez ;  —  and  at  any  turn  of  any  road 
luck  might  again  be  with  his  wishes,  and  her  estate  fall 
to  any  level  he  choose  to  enforce. 

At  dusk  they  reached  the  Little  Coyote  well,  and  had 
joy  to  find  water  for  night  and  morning,  and  grease- 
wood  and  dead  mesquite  wood  for  a  fire.  The  night  had 
turned  chill  and  Clodomiro  spread  the  scrape  of  Dona 
Jocasta  over  a  heap  of  flowering  greasewood  branches. 
It  was  very  quiet  compared  with  the  other  camps  on 
the  trail,  and  had  a  restful  air  of  comfort,  and  of  that 
Jocasta  spoke. 

"  Always  the  fear  is  here,  sefior,"  she  said  touching  her 
breast.  "All  the  men  and  guns  of  Ramon  Rotil  did  not 


364 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

make  that  fear  go  quiet.  Every  canon  we  crossed  I  was 
holding  my  breath  for  fear  of  hidden  men  of  Jose  Perez ! 
You  did  not  see  him  in  the  land  where  he  is  strong;  but 
men  of  power  are  bound  to  him  there  in  the  south,  and 
—  against  one  woman " 

"  Sefiora,  I  do  not  think  you  have  read  the  papers 
given  to  you  by  Padre  Andreas  to  put  with  the  others 
given  by  General  Rotil,"  was  Kit's  quiet  comment.  He 
glanced  toward  the  well  where  the  boy  was  dipping  water 
into  a  wicker  bottle.  "  Have  you  ?  " 

"  No,  senor,  it  is  my  permit  to  be  passed  safely  by  all 
the  men  of  Ramon  Rotil,"  she  said.  "  That  I  have  not 
had  need  of.  Also  there  is  the  record  that  the  American 
murder  at  Granados  was  the  crime  of  Conrad." 

"  But,  senora,  there  is  one  other  paper  among  them.  — 
I  would  have  told  you  yesterday  if  I  had  known  your 
fear.  I  meant  to  wait  until  the  trail  was  ended,  but " 

"  Senor ! "  she  breathed  leaning  toward  him,  her  great 
eyes  glowing  with  dreadful  question,  "Senor!" 

"I  know  the  paper,  for  I  signed  it,"  said  Kit  staring 
in  the  leaping  blaze.  "  So  did  the  padre.  It  is  the  cer 
tificate  of  the  burial  of  Jose  Perez." 

"  Senor !    Madre  de  Dios!"  she  whispered. 

"Death  reached  him  on  his  own  land,  senora.  We 
passed  the  grave  the  first  day  of  the  trail." 

Her  face  went  very  white  as  she  made  the  sign  of 
the  cross. 

"Then  he— Ramon ?" 

"  No,  —  the  general  did  not  see  Perez  on  the  trail.  He 
tried  to  escape  from  Cavayso  and  the  man  sent  a  bullet 
to  stop  him.  It  was  the  end." 


EACH  TO  HIS  OWN 365 

She  shuddered  and  covered  her  eyes. 

Kit  got  up  and  walked  away.  He  looked  back  from 
where  he  tethered  the  mules  for  the  night,  but  she  had 
not  moved.  The  little  crucifix  was  in  her  hand,  he  thought 
she  was  praying.  There  were  no  more  words  to  be  said, 
and  he  did  not  go  near  her  again  that  night.  He  sent 
Clodomiro  with  her  scrape  and  pillow,  and  when  the 
fire  died  down  to  glowing  ash,  she  arose  and  went  to 
the  couch  prepared.  She  went  without  glance  to  right 
or  left  —  the  great  fear  had  taken  itself  away! 

Clodomiro  rolled  himself  in  a  scrape  not  far  from 
her  place  of  rest,  but  Kit  Rhodes  slept  with  the  packs 
and  with  two  guns  beside  him.  From  the  start  on  the 
trail  no  man  had  touched  his  outfit  but  himself.  He 
grinned  sometimes  at  thought  of  the  favorable  report 
the  men  of  Rotil  would  deliver  to  their  chief,  —  for  the 
Americano  had  taken  all  personal  care  of  the  packs  and 
chests  of  Dona  Jocasta !  He  was  as  an  owl  and  had  no 
human  need  of  sleep,  and  let  no  man  help  him. 

The  trail  to  the  canon  of  the  Rio  Seco  was  a  hard 
trail,  and  a  long  day,  and  night  caught  them  ere  they 
reached  the  rim  of  the  dry  wash  where,  at  long  intervals, 
rain  from  the  hills  swept  down  its  age-old  channel  for 
a  brief  hour. 

Dona  Jocasta,  for  the  first  time,  had  left  the  saddle  and 
crept  to  the  rude  couch  afforded  by  the  piled-up  blankets 
in  the  wagon ;  Clodomiro  drove ;  and  Kit,  with  the  mules, 
led  the  way. 

A  little  water  still  swished  about  in  their  water  bottles, 
but  not  enough  for  the  mules.  He  was  more  anxious  than 
he  dared  betray,  for  it  was  twenty  miles  to  the  lower 


366  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

well  of  La  Partida,  and  if  by  any  stroke  of  fortune  Cap 
Pike  had  failed  to  make  good  —  Cap  was  old,  and  liable 
to 

Then  through  the  dusk  of  night  he  heard,  quite  near 
in  the  trail  ahead,  a  curious  thing,  the  call  of  a  bird  — 
and  not  a  night  bird ! 

It  was  a  tremulous  little  call,  and  sent  a  thrill  of  such 
wild  joy  through  his  heart  that  he  drew  back  the  mule 
with  a  sharp  cruel  jerk,  and  held  his  breath  to  listen. 
Was  he  going  loco  from  lack  of  sleep,  —  lack  of  water, — 
and  dreams  of 

It  came  again,  and  he  answered  it  as  he  plunged  for 
ward  down  a  barranca  and  up  the  other  side  where  a 
girl  sat  on  a  roan  horse  under  the  stars :  —  his  horse !  also 
his  girl! 

If  he  had  entertained  any  doubts  concerning  the  last 

—  but  he  knew  now  he  never  had;  a  rather  surprising 
fact  considering  that  no  word  had  ever  been  spoken 
of  such  ownership!  —  they  would  have  been  dispelled  by 
the  way  she  slipped  from  the  saddle  into  his  arms. 

"Oh,  and  you  didn't  forget!  you  didn't  forget!"  she 
whimpered  with  her  head  hidden  against  his  breast.  "  I 

—  I'm  mighty  glad  of  that.     Neither  did  I!" 

"Why,  Lark-child,  you've  been  right  alongside  wher 
ever  I  heard  that  call  ever  since  I  rode  away,"  he  said 
patting  her  head  and  holding  her  close.  He  had  a  hor 
rible  suspicion  that  she  was  crying,  —  girls  were  mys 
terious!  "Now,  now,  now,"  he  went  on  with  a  com 
forting  pat  to  each  word,  "  don't  worry  about  anything. 
I'm  back  safe,  though  in  big  need  of  a  drink, — and  luck 
will  come  your  way,  and " 


EACH  TO  HIS  OWN 367 

She  tilted  her  cantin  to  him,  and  began  to  laugh. 

"But  it  has  come  my  way!"  she  exulted.  "O  Kit, 
I  can't  keep  it  a  minute,  Kit — we  did  find  that  sheep 
skin!" 

"What?  A  sheepskin?"  He  had  no  recollection  of  a 
lost  sheepskin. 

"  Yes,  Cap  Pike  and  I !  In  the  bottom  of  an  old  chest 
of  daddy's!  We're  all  but  crazy  because  it  came  just 
when  we  were  planning  to  give  up  the  ranch  if  we  had 
to,  and  now  that  you  are  here  —  ! "  her  sentence  ended 
in  a  happy  sigh  of  utter  content. 

"  Sure,  now  that  I'm  here,"  he  assented  amicably, 
"we'll  stop  all  that  moving4  business — pronto.  That  is 
if  we  live  to  get  to  water.  What  do  you  know  about 
any?" 

"Two  barrels  waiting  for  you,  and  Cap  rustling  fire 
wood,  but  I  heard  the  wagon,  and " 

"  Sure,"  he  assented  again.  "  Into  the  saddle  with  you 
and  we'll  get  there.  The  folks  are  all  right,  but  the 
cayuses " 

A  light  began  to  blaze  on  the  level  above,  and  the 
mules,  smelling  water,  broke  into  a  momentary  trot  and 
were  herded  ahead  of  the  two  who  followed  more  slowly, 
and  very  close  together. 

Cap  Pike  left  the  fire  to  stand  guard  over  the  water 
barrels  and  shoo  the  mules  away. 

"Look  who's  here?"  he  called  waving  his  hat  in 
salute.  "The  patriots  of  Sonora  have  nothing  on  you 
when  it  comes  to  making  collections  on  their  native  heath ! 
I  left  you  a  poor  devil  with  a  runt  of  a  burro,  a  cripple, 
and  an  Indian  kid,  and  you've  bloomed  out  into  a  bloated 


368  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

aristocrat  with  a  batch  of  high-class  army  mules.  And 
say,  you're  just  in  time,  and  you  don't  know  it!  We're 
in  at  last,  by  Je-rusalem,  we're  in!" 

Kit  grinned  at  him  appreciatively,  but  was  too  busy 
getting  water  to  ask  questions.  The  wagon  was  rattling 
through  the  dry  river  bed  and  would  arrive  in  a  few 
minutes,  and  the  first  mules  had  to  be  got  out  of  the  way. 

"  You  don't  get  it,"  said  Billie  alongside  of  him.  "  He 
means  war.  We're  in ! " 

"With  Mexico?    Again?"  smiled  Kit  skeptically. 

"No  —  something  real  —  helping  France!" 

"No!"  he  protested  with  radiant  eyes.  "Me  for  it! 
Say,  children,  this  is  some  homecoming!" 

The  three  shook  hands,  all  talking  at  once,  and  Kit 
and  Billie  forgot  to  let  go. 

"Of  course  you  know  Cap  swore  an  alibi  for  you 
against  that  suspicion  Conrad  tried  to  head  your  way," 
she  stated  a  bit  anxiously.  "  You  stayed  away  so  long ! " 

"  Yes,  yes,  Lark-child,"  he  said  reassuringly,  "  I  know 
all  that,  and  a  lot  more.  I've  brought  letters  of  intro 
duction  for  the  government  to  some  of  Conrad's  useful 
pacifist  friends  along  the  border.  Don't  you  fret,  Billie 
boy;  the  spoke  we  put  in  their  wheel  will  overturn  their 
applecart!  The  only  thing  worrying  me  just  now, — 
beauti fullest!  —  is  whether  you'll  wait  for  me  till  I  enlist, 
get  to  France,  do  my  stunt  to  help  clean  out  the  brown 
rats  of  the  world,  and  come  back  home  to  marry  you." 

"Yip-pee!"  shrilled  Pike  who  was  slicing  bacon  into 
a  skillet.  "  I'm  getting  a  line  now  on  how  you  made  your 
other  collections ! " 

Billie  laughed  and  looked  up  at  him  a  bit  shyly. 


EACH  TO  HIS  OWN  369 

"  I  waited  for  you  before  without  asking,  and  I  reckon 
I  can  do  it  again!  I'm  —  I'm  wonderfully  happy  —  for 
I  didn't  want  you  to  worry  over  coming  home  broke 
-and-  -" 

"  Whisper,  Lark-child.     I'm  not!" 

"What?" 

"\Vhisper,  I  said,"  and  he  put  one  hand  over  her 
mouth  and  led  her  over  to  the  little  gray  burro.  "  Now, 
not  even  to  Pike  until  we  get  home,  Billie,  — but  I've  come 
out  alive  with  the  goods,  while  every  other  soul  who  knew 
wrent  '  over  the  range ' !  Buntin'  carries  your  share.  I 
knew  you  were  sure  to  find  the  sheepskin  map  sooner  or 
later,"  he  lied  glibly,  "  but  luck  didn't  favor  me  hanging 
around  for  it.  I  had  to  get  it  while  the  getting  was 
good,  but  we  three  are  partners  for  keeps,  Buntin'  is 
yours,  and  I'll  divide  with  Pike  out  of  the  rest." 

Billie  touched  the  pack,  tried  to  lift  it,  and  stared. 

"  You're  crazy,  Kit  Rhodes ! " 

"Too  bad  you've  picked  a  crazy  man  to  marry!"  he 
laughed,  and  took  off  the  pack.  "  Seventy-five  pounds 
in  that.  I've  over  three  hundred.  Lark-child,  if  you 
remember  the  worth  of  gold  per  ounce,  I  reckon  you'll  see 
that  there  won't  need  to  be  any  delay  in  clearing  off  the 
ranch  debts,  —  not  such  as  you  would  notice !  and  maybe 
I  might  qualify  as  a  ranch  hand  when  I  come  back,  —  even 
if  I  couldn't  hold  the  job  the  first  time." 

"O  Kit!  O  Cap!  O  me!"  she  whispered  chantingly. 
"  Don't  you  dare  wake  me  up,  for  I'm  having  the  dream 
of  my  life!" 

But  he  caught  her,  drew  her  close  and  kissed  her  hair 
rumpled  in  the  desert  wind. 


370  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

And  as  the  wagon  drew  into  the  circle  of  light,  that 
was  the  picture  Dona  Jocasta  saw  from  the  shadows  of 
the  covered  wagon:  —  young  love,  radiant  and  un 
ashamed  ! 

She  stared  at  them  a  moment  strangely  in  a  sudden 
mist  of  tears,  as  Clodomiro  jumped  down  and  arranged 
for  her  to  alight.  Cap  Pike  looking  up,  all  but  dropped 
the  coffeepot. 

"  Some  little  collector  —  that  boy!"  he  muttered,  and 
then  aloud,  "You  Kit!" 

Kit  turned  and  came  forward  leading  Billie,  who  sud 
denly  developed  panic  at  vision  of  the  most  beautiful, 
tragic  face  she  had  ever  seen. 

"  Some  collector ! "  murmured  Cap  Pike  forgetting 
culinary  operations  to  stare.  "Shades  of  Sheba's 
queen ! " 

But  Kit,  whose  days  and  nrghts  of  Mesa  Blanca  and 
Soledad  had  rather  unfitted  him  for  hasty  adjustments 
to  conventions,  or  standardized  suspicion  regarding  the 
predatory  male,  held  the  little  hand  of  Billie  very  tightly, 
and  did  not  notice  her  gasp  of  amazement.  He  went  for 
ward  to  assist  Dona  Jocasta,  whose  hesitating  half  glance 
about  her  only  enhanced  the  wonder  of  jewel-green  eyes 
whose  beauty  had  been  theme  of  many  a  Mexic  ballad. 

For  these  were  the  first  Americanos  she  had  ever  met, 
and  it  was  said  in  the  south  that  Americanos  might  be 
wild  barbaros,  —  though  the  senor  of  the  songs 

The  senor  of  the  songs  reached  his  hand  and  made  his 
best  bow  as  he  noted  her  sudden  shrinking. 

"  Here,  Dona  Jocasta,  are  friends  of  good  heart.  We 
are  now  on  the  edge  of  the  lands  of  La  Partida,  and  this 


EACH  TO  HIS  OWN 371 

little  lady  is  its  padrona  waiting  to  give  you  welcome  at 
the  border.  Folks,  this  is  Senora  Perez  who  has  escaped 
from  hell  by  help  of  the  guns  of  El  Gavilan." 

"Dona  Jocasta!"  repeated  Cap  Pike  standing  in 
amazed  incredulity  with  the  forgotten  skillet  at  an  awk 
ward  angle  dripping  grease  into  the  camp  fire,  but  his 
amazement  regarding  personality  did  not  at  all  change 
his  mental  attitude  as  to  the  probable  social  situation. 
"Some  collector,  Brother,  but  hell  in  Sonora  isn't  the 
only  hell  you  can  blaze  the  trail  to  with  the  wrong  com 
bination  ! " 

Kit  turned  a  silencing  frown  on  the  philosopher  of 
the  skillet,  but  Billie  went  towrard  the  guest  with  out 
stretching  hands. 

"  Dona  Jocasta,  oh ! "  she  breathed  as  if  one  of  her 
fairy  tales  of  beauty  had  come  true,  and  then  in  Spanish 
she  added  the  sweet  gracious  old  Castillian  welcome, 
"  Be  at  home  with  us  on  your  own  estate,  Senora  Perez." 

Jocasta  laid  her  hands  on  the  shoulder  of  the  girl,  and 
looked  in  the  clear  gray  eyes. 

"You  are  Spanish,  Sefiorita?" 

"  My  grandmother  wras." 

"Thanks  to  the  Mother  of  God  that  you  are  not  a 
strange  Americana!"  sighed  Jocasta  in  sudden  relief. 
Then  she  turned  to  her  American  courier  and  guard  and 
salvation  over  the  desert  trails. 

"  I  saw,"  she  said  briefly.  "  She  is  as  the  young  sister 
of  me  who  —  who  is  gone  to  God!  Make  yourself  her 
guard  forever,  Don  Pajarito.  May  you  sing  many  songs 
together,  and  have  no  sorrows." 

After  the  substantial  supper,  Kit  heard  at  first  hand 


372 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

all  the  veiled  suspicion  against  himself  as  voiced  in  the 
fragment  .of  old  newspaper  wrapped  around  Fidelio's 
tobacco,  and  he  and  Dona  Jocasta  spread  out  the  records 
written  by  the  padre,  and  signed  by  Jocasta  and  the 
others,  as  witness  of  how  Philip  Singleton  met  death  in 
the  arroya  of  the  cotton  woods. 

"  It  is  all  here  in  this  paper,"  said  Jocasta,  "  and  that 
is  best.  I  can  tell  the  alcalde,  yes,  but  if  an  —  an  acci 
dent  had  come  to  me  on  the  trail,  the  words  on  the  paper 
would  be  the  safer  thing." 

"  But  fear  on  the  trail  is  gone  for  you  now,"  said 
Kit  smiling  at  her  across  the  camp  fire.  Neither  of  them 
had  said  any  word  of  life  at  Mesa  Blanca  or  Soledad,  or 
of  the  work  of  Tula  at  the  death. 

The  German  had  strangled  a  priest,  and  escaped,  and 
in  ignorance  of  trails  had  ridden  into  a  quicksand,  and 
that  was  all  the  outer  world  need  know  of  his  end! 

The  fascinated  eyes  of  Billie  dwelt  on  Jocasta  with 
endless  wonder. 

"And  you  came  north  with  the  guns  and  soldiers  of 
Ramon  Rotil,  —  how  wonderful!"  she  breathed.  "And 
if  the  newspapers  tell  the  truth  I  reckon  he  needs  the 
guns  all  right!  Cap  dear,  where  is  that  one  Jose  Ortego 
rode  in  with  from  the  railroad  as  we  were  leaving  La 
Partida?" 

"  In  my  coat,  Honey.  You  go  get  it  —  you  are  younger 
than  this  old-timer." 

Jocasta  followed  Billie  with  her  eyes,  though  she  had 
not  understood  the  English  words  between  them.  It  was 
not  until  the  paper  was  unfolded  with  an  old  and  very  bad 
photograph  of  Ramon  Rotil  staring  from  the  front  page 


EACH  TO  HIS  OWN  373 

that  she  whispered  a  prayer  and  reached  out  her  hand. 
The  headline  to  the  article  was  only  three  words  in  heavy 
type  across  the  page :  "  Trapped  at  last ! " 

But  the  words  escaped  her,  and  that  picture  of  him 
in  the  old  days  with  the  sombrero  of  a  peon  on  his 
head  and  his  audacious  eyes  smiling  at  the  world  held 
her.  No  picture  of  him  had  ever  before  come  her  way; 
strange  that  it  should  be  waiting  for  her  there  at  the 
border ! 

The  Indian  boy  at  sight  of  it,  stepped  nearer,  and 
stood  a  few  paces  from  her,  looking  down. 

"It  calls,"  he  said. 

It  was  the  first  time  he  had  spoken  except  to  make 
reply  since  entering  the  American  camp.  Dona  Jocasta 
frowned  at, him  and  he  moved  a  little  apart,  leaning,  —  a 
slender  dark,  semi-nude  figure,  against  the  green  and 
yellow  mist  of  a  palo  verde  tree,  —  listening  with  down 
cast  eyes. 

Dona  Jocasta  looked  from  the  pictured  face  to  the  big 
black  letters  above. 

"Is  it  a  victorious  battle,  for  him?"  she  asked  and 
Kit  hesitated  to  make  reply,  but  Billie,  not  knowing 
reason  for  silence,  blurted  out  the  truth  even  while  her 
eyes  were  occupied  by  another  column. 

"  Not  exactly,  sefiora.  But  here  is  something  of  real 
interest  to  you,  something  of  Soledad  —  oh,  I  am 
sorry ! " 

"What  does  it  say,  —  Soledad ?" 

"  See !  —  I  forgot  you  don't  know  the  English ! " 

Troops  from  the  south  to  rescue  Don  Jose  Perez  from 
El  Gavilan  at  Soledad  turn  guns  on  that  survival  of  old  mis- 


374  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

sion  days,  and  level  it  to  the  ground.  Soledad  was  suspected 
as  an  ammunition  magazine  for  the  bandit  chief,  and  it 
is  feared  Sefior  Perez  is  held  in  the  mountains  for  ran 
som,  as  no  trace  of  him  has  been  found. 

"  Now  you've  done  it,"  remarked  Kit,  and  Billie  turned 
beseeching  eyes  on  the  owner  of  Soledad,  and  repeated 
miserably  —  "I  am  so  sorry!" 

But  Dona  Jocasta  only  lifted  her  head  with  a  certain 
disdain,  and  veiled  the  emerald  eyes  slightly. 

"  So ! "  she  murmured  with  a  shrug  of  the  shoulder. 
"It  is  then  a  bandit  he  is  called  in  the  words  of  the 
American  newspaper?" 

Cap  Pike  not  comprehending  the  rapid  musical 
Spanish,  leaned  forward  fishing  for  a  coal  to  light  his 
pipe,  noting  her  voice  and  watching  her  eyes. 

"There  you  have  it  already!"  he  muttered  to  Kit. 
"All  velvet,  and  mad  as  hell!" 

Billie,  much  bewildered,  turned  to  Kit  as  for  help,  but 
the  slender  hand  of  Dona  Jocasta  reached  out  pointing 
to  the  headlines. 

"And  —  this?"  she  said  coldly.  "It  is,  you  say,  not 
victorious  for  Ramon  Rotil,  that  —  bandit?" 

"It  says,  senora,"  hesitated  Billie,  "that  he  is  hid 
in  the  hills,  and " 

"  That  we  know,"  stated  Dofia  Jocasta,  "  what  other 
thing?" 

" '  He  has  a  wound  and  was  carried  by  his  men  to  one 
of  his  retreats,  a  hidden  place/  "  read  Billie  slowly,  trans 
lating  into  Spanish  as  she  went  on.  "  That  is  all  except 
that  the  Federals  had  to  retreat  temporarily  because  a 


EACH  TO  HIS  OWN  375 

storm  caused  trouble  and  washed  out  a  bridge  over  which 
their  ammunition  train  has  to  go.  The  place  of  the  acci 
dent  is  very  bad.  Timber  and  construction  engineers 
are  being  rushed  to  service  there,  but  for  a  few  days 
luck  is  with  the  Hawk." 

"  So !  —  For  a  few  days ! "  repeated  Dona  Jocasta  in 
the  cool  sweet  voice.  "  In  a  few  days  Ramon  Rotil 
could  cross  Mexico.  He  is  El  Gavilan!" 

Things  were  coming  too  fast  for  Billie.  She  regarded 
the  serenity  of  Dona  Jocasta  with  amazement,  and  tried  to 
imagine  how  she  would  feel  if  enemy  guns  battered  down 
the  old  walls  of  Granados,  or — thought  of  terror  —  if 
Kit  should  be  held  in  the  hills  and  tortured  for  ransom! 

"  Speaking  of  floods,"  remarked  Pike  in  amiable  desire 
to  bridge  over  an  awkward  pause,  "  we've  used  half  the 
water  we  brought,  and  need  to  make  a  bright  and  early 
start  tomorrow.  Rio  Seco  is  no  garden  spot  to  get 
caught  in  short  of  water.  Our  La  Partida  mules  are 
fresh  as  daisies  right  off  a  month  of  range,  but  yours 
sure  look  as  if  they  had  made  the  trip." 

"What  does  he  say,  —  the  old  sefior?"  asked  Dona 
Jocasta. 

Billie  translated  for  her,  whereupon  she  arose  and 
summoned  Clodomiro  by  a  gesture. 

"My  bed,"  she  said  briefly,  "over  there,"  and  she 
indicated  a  thicket  of  greasewood  the  wagon  had  passed 
on  their  arrival.  "Also  this  first  night  of  safety  you 
will  be  the  sentinel  to  keep  guard  that  Senor  Rhodes  may 
at  last  have  sleep.  All  the  danger  trail  he  had  none." 

Cap  Pike  protested  that  he  do  guard  duty,  but  the 
smile  of  Dona  Jocasta  won  her  way. 


376  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

"He  is  younger  and  not  weary,  sefior.  It  is  good  for 
him,  and  it  pleases  me,"  she  said. 

"The  camp  is  yours/'  he  agreed  weakly,  and  against 
his  better  judgment.  He  did  not  like  Indians  who  were 
like  "sulky  slim  brown  dumb  snakes";  that  was  what 
he  muttered  when  he  looked  at  Clodomiro.  In  his  irri 
tation  at  the  Indian's  silence  it  didn't  even  occur  to  him 
that  he  never  had  known  any  snakes  but  dumb  ones. 

But  if  the  voice  of  Clodomiro  was  uncannily  silent, 
his  eyes  spoke  for  him  as  they  followed  Dona  Jocasta. 
Kit  could  only  think  of  a  lost,  homesick  dog  begging  for 
the  scent  of  the  trail  to  his  own  kennel.  He  said  so  to 
Billie  as  he  made  her  bed  in  the  camp  wagon. 

"  Cap  and  I  will  be  right  here  at  the  hind  wheels,"  he 
promised.  "  Yes,  —  sure,  I'll  let  the  Indian  ride  herd  for 
the  night.  Dona  Jocasta  is  right,  it's  his  turn,  and  we 
seem  to  have  passed  the  danger  line." 

"  Knock  wood ! "  cautioned  Billie. 

So  he  rapped  his  head  with  his  knuckles,  and  they 
laughed  together  as  young  happy  things  do  at  trifles. 
Then  he  stretched  himself  for  sleep  under  the  stars  and 
almost  within  arm's  reach  of  the  girl  —  the  girl  who 
had  ridden  to  meet  him  in  the  night,  the  wonderful  girl 
who  had  promised  to  wait  until  he  came  back  from 
France  ....  of  course  he  could  get  into  the  army 
now!  They  would  need  men  too  badly  to  turn  him 
down  again.  If  there  was  a  trifle  of  discrepancy  in  sight 
of  his  eyes  —  which  he  didn't  at  all  believe  —  he  had 
the  dust  now,  also  the  nuggets,  to  buy  any  and  all  treat 
ment  to  adjust  that  little  matter.  He  had  nearly  four 
hundred  pounds,  aside  from  giving  all  he  dared  give  at 


EACH  TO  HIS  OWN  377 

once  as  Tula's  gift  to  those  women  of  the  slave  raid. 
After  the  war  was  over  he  would  find  ways  of  again 
crossing  over  to  the  great  treasure  chest  in  the  hidden 
canon.  The  little  information  Pike  had  managed  to 
convey  to  him  about  that  sheepskin  map  told  him  that 
the  most  important  indications  had  been  destroyed  dur 
ing  those  years  it  had  been  buried  for  safe-keeping. 
The  only  true  map  in  existence  was  the  one  in  his  own 
memory,  —  no  use  to  tell  Pike  and  Billie  that!  He  could 
leave  them  in  comfort  and  content,  and  when  he  got 
back  from  France —  He  wondered  how  long  it  would 
last — the  war.  Hadn't  the  greatest  of  Americans  tried 
three  years  ago  to  hammer  the  fact  into  the  alleged 
brain  pans  of  the  practical  politicians  that  the  sooner 
the  little  old  United  States  made  guns,  and  ships,  and 
flying  machines  for  herself,  the  sooner  she  could  help  end 
that  upheaval  of  hell  in  Europe?  ....  and  they 
wouldn't  listen !  Listen? —  They  brought  every  ounce 
of  influence  they  could  round  up  to  silence  those  facts,  — 
the  eternally  condemned  ostriches  sticking  their  own  heads 
in  the  sand  to  blind  the  world  to  the  situation !  Now  they 
were  in,  and  he  wondered  if  they  had  even  ten  rounds 
of  ammunition  for  the  cartridge  belts  of  the  few  trained 
soldiers  in  service?  They  had  not  had  even  three  rounds 
for  the  showy  grand  review  attempted  in  Texas  not 
long  since;  also  the  transportation  had  been  a  joke,  some 
of  the  National  Guards  started,  but  never  did  arrive  — 
and  France  was  a  longer  trail  than  Texas.  God!  they 
should  be  ready  to  fight  as  the  French  were  ready,  in 
twelve  hours  —  and  it  would  have  to  be  months  —  a 
long  unequal  hell  for  a  time  over  there,  but  only  one 


378 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

finish,  and  the  brown  rats  driven  back  to  their  den! 
After  that  the  most  wonderful  girl  would  —  would  — 
would 

Then  all  the  sleep  due  him  on  the  sleepless  trail  set 
tled  over  him  like  a  net  weighted,  yet  very  caressing,  and 
the  world  war  and  the  wonderful  girl  drifted  far  away! 

Beyond,  on  the  other  side  of  the  fire,  and  out  of  the 
cirde  of  light,  Clodomiro  bore  the  serape  of  Dona  Jo- 
casta,  and  made  clear  the  place  for  her  couch.  She  had 
returned  to  the  light  of  the  fire  and  was  scanning  aga<in 
the  annoying  paper  of  the  Americanos.  Especially  that 
remembered  face  of  the  audacious  eyes.  They  were 
different  eyes  in  these  latter  days,  level  and  cynical,  and 
sometimes  cruel. 

"  He  calls/'  said  Clodomiro  again  beside  her.  She  had 
not  heard  him,  and  turned  in  anger  that  he  dare  startle 
her. 

"  Who  does  he  call  ?  "  she  asked  irritably  tossing  aside 
the  paper. 

"All  Mexico,  1  think.  All  Mexico's  heart/'  and  he 
touched  his  breast.  "Me,  I  do  not  sleep.  I  do  your 
work  and  when  the  end  of  the  trail  is  yours,  I  ask,  Excel- 
lencia,  that  you  send  me  back  that  I  find  him  again, — 
the  Deliverer!" 

"  What  did  Ramon  Rotil  ever  do  for  you  that  you  fret 
like  a  chained  coyote  because  his  enemies  are  strong?" 

"  Not  anything,  Excellencia.  Me,  he  would  not  know 
if  I  told  him  my  name,  but — he  is  the  Deliverer  who  will 
help  the  clans.  Also,  she  would  go,  —  Tula.  Sangre  de 
Christ o!  there  would  be  no  chain  strong  enough  to  hold 
her  back  if  his  wounds  cried  for  help/' 


EACH  TO  HIS  OWN 379 

"If  —  his  wounds  cried  for  help!"  repeated  Dona 
Jocasta  mechanically. 

"It  is  true,  Excellencia,  El  Gavilan  was  giving  help 
to  many  people  in  the  lands  he  crossed.  Now  the  many 
will  forget,  and  like  a  hawk  with  the  weight  of  an  arrow 
in  his  breast  he  will  fly  alone  to  a  high  nest  of  the  hills. 
Death  will  nest  with  him  there  some  night  or  some  day, 
Excellencia.  And  the  many  will  forget." 

"  Quiet  you ! "  ordered  Dona  Jocasta  angrily. 

Abashed,  Clodomiro  went  silent,  and  with  a  murmured 
apology  took  himself  into  the  shadows. 

She  lifted  the  pictured  face  barely  discernible  now  in 
the  diminished  light. 

"  And  —  the  many  will  forget ! "  she  repeated  irritably. 
"  The  boy  has  the  truth  of  it,  but  if  she  had  lived,  so  ter 
ribly  wicked,- — so  lost  of  God,  I  wonder  if " 

She  lifted  her  face  looking  up  at  the  still  stars  as  if  for 
light  on  a  thought,  then  flung  her  hands  out  despairingly 
and  turned  away  to  the  couch  by  the  green  bush  of 
fragrant  yellow  bloom. 

But  not  to  sleep.  Long  after  the  Americanos  were 
wrapped  in  slumber  a  little  blaze  sent  glimmer  of  light 
through  the  undergrowth,  and  she  saw  Clodomiro 
stretched  beside  the  fire.  He  had  tossed  a  bit  of  grease- 
wood  on  the  coals  that  he  might  again  study  the  face  of 
El  Gavilan. 

She  had  heard  him  say  that  if  no  desert  wind  lifted 
the  sand  he  could  follow  to  that  hidden  nest  of  the  Hawk. 
It  was  very  dark  now  except  for  glimmer  of  stars  through 
lacy,  slow-drifting  clouds,  —  there  was  no  wind.  Later 
there  would  be  a  waning  moon !  Much  of  every  waking 


380  THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

life  is  a  dream,  and  her  dreams  were  of  the  No  Man's 
Land  of  the  desert,  —  the  waterless  trail  from  which  she 
had  been  rescued  for  peace ! 

Twice  during  the  night  Kit  roused  from  the  depths 
sufficiently  to  realize  that  sleep  is  one  of  the  greatest 
gifts  to  man.  Once  Clodomiro  was  stretched  by  the  little 
fire  inspecting  the  paper  he  could  not  read,  the  second 
time  he  thought  Baby  Bunting  was  nosing  around  trying 
to  get  close  to  human  things.  Both  times  he  reached  out 
his  hands  to  the  precious  packs  beside  which  he  slept 
on  the  trail.  All  were*  safe,  and  he  drifted  again  into  a 
great  ocean  of  slumber. 

He  was  wakened  at  dawn  by  the  voice  of  Cap  Pike, 
keyed  high  for  an  ultra  display  of  profanity. 

"  By  the  jumping  Je-hosophat,  I  knew  it ! "  he  shrilled. 
"That's  your  latest  collection,  begod!  I  hoped  he 
wouldn't,  and  knew  he  would!  The  all-firedest  finest 
pair  of  mules  on  Granados,  and  every  water  bag  in 
the  outfit !  Can  you  beat  it  ?  " 

At  the  first  shout  Kit  jumped  to  his  feet,  his  eyes 
running  rapidly  over  his  pack  saddle  outfit.  All  was 
safe  there,  and  as  Billie  lifted  her  head  and  looked  at  him 
drowsily  over  the  edge  of  the  wagon  bed  he  realized 
that  in  the  vital  things  of  life  all  was  well  with  his  world. 

"Let  Sheba  run  your  camp,  and  run  it  to  hell,  will 
you  ?  "  went  on  Cap  Pike  accusingly.  He  was  thrashing 
around  among  the  growth  back  of  the  Soledad  outfit 
wagon  where  the  mules  had  been  teethered.  "Two — 
four  —  six,  and  Baby  Buntin'  —  yes  sir!  Lit  out  by 
the  dark  of  the  moon,  and  left  neither  hide  nor  hair, — 
took  all  the  water  he  could  pack  to  boot ! " 


EACH  TO  HIS  OWN 381 

"Oh,  be  reasonable,  Cap!"  protested  Kit  "Btmtin' 
isn't  gone — she's  right  alongside  here,  waiting  for  break 
fast." 

"You're  shoutin'  she's  here;  so  is  every  dragged-to- 
death  skate  you  hit  camp  with!  It's  Billie's  crackerjack 
mules,  the  pick  of  the  ranch,  that  the  bare-legged  greasy 
heathen  hit  the  trail  with!  And  every  water  bag!" 

"  Well,"  decided  Kit,  verifying  the  water  statement  by 
a  glance  at  the  barrels,  "no  one  is  to  blame.  The  boy 
didn't  want  to  come  this  trail.  He  stuck  until  we  were 
over  the  rough  of  it,  and  then  he  cut  loose.  A  pair  of 
mules  isn't  so  bad." 

"  Now,  of  course  not ! "  agreed  Cap  sarcastically.  "  A 
mere  A-number-one  pair  of  mules  belonging  to  another 
fellow  is  only  a  flea  bite  to  offer  a  visitor  for  supper! 
Well,  all  7  got  to  say " 

"  Don't  say  it,  Cap  dear,"  suggested  Billie.  "  The  In 
dian  was  here  because  of  Dona  Jocasta,  and  she  can't 
help  it!  As  she  doesn't  understand  English,  she'll  prob 
ably  think  you're  murdering  some  of  us  over  here.  Whist 
now,  and  put  your  muzzle  on!  We'll  get  home  without 
the  two  mules.  I'll  go  and  tell  her  that  the  hysterics  is 
your  way  of  offering  morning  prayers!" 

She  slipped  away,  laughing  at  his  protests,  but  when 
a  little  past  the  fire  place  she  halted,  standing  very  still, 
peering  beyond  at  something  on  the  ground  under  the 
grease  wood  where  the  serape  of  Dona  Jocasta  had  been 
spread.  No  serape  or  sleeper  was  there ! 

Kit  noted  her  startled  pause,  and  in  a  few  strides  was 
beside  her ;  then,  without  a  word,  the  two  went  forward 
together  and  he  picked  up  the  package  of  papers  laid 


382 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

carefully  under  the  greasewood.  He  knew  without  open 
ing  them  what  they  were,  —  the  records  made  for  her 
safety,  and  for  his,  in  Soledad,  place  of  tragedies. 

"They  are  the  papers  I  was  to  put  on  record  for  her 
in  case —  Well,  I'll  do  it,  and  you'll  take  care  of  the 
copies  for  her,  Billie,  and  —  and  do  your  best  for  the 
girl  if  a  chance  ever  comes.  We  owe  her  a  lot  more  than 
she  will  ever  guess,  —  our  gold  come  out  of  Mexico  under 
the  guard  arranged  for  her,  and  when  I  come  back " 

"  But  Kit,"  protested  Billie,  "  to  think  of  her  alone  with 
that  thieving  Indian !  He  took  flour  and  bacon  too !  And 
if  she  hopes  to  find  her  husband " 

"  She  doesn't,"  concluded  Kit  thoughtfully  turning  over 
the  certificate  signed  by  the  padre  and  him,  of  the  hus 
band's  safe  burial  in  the  sands  of  Soledad.  He  glanced 
at  Billie  in  doubt.  One  never  knew  how  safe  it  was  to 
tell  things,  —  some  things,  —  to  a  woman;  also  Billie  was 
so  enchanted  by  Jocasta's  sad  beauty,  and 

"  No,  I  reckon  she  doesn't  hope  much  along  that  line. 
She  has  probably  gone  back  to  the  wilderness  for  another 
reason,  —  one  I  never  suspected  until  last  night.  And 
Lark-child,  we  won't  talk  about  that,  not  at  least  till  I 
return  from  the  'back  of  beyond'  over  there,"  and  he 
pointed  eastward  where  shafts  of  copper  light  touched 
the  gray  veil  of  the  morning. 

After  his  first  explosion  of  amazement  Cap  Pike  re 
garded  the  elopement,  as  he  called  it,  very  philosophically, 
considering  his  disgust  over  lost  mules  and  flour  and 
bacon. 

"What  did  I  tell  you  right  here  last  night?"  he  de 
manded  of  Kit.  "Soft  as  velvet  and  hard  as  hell, — 


EACH  TO  HIS  OWN  383 

that's  what  I  said !  She  looks  to  me  like  a  cross  between  a 
saint  in  a  picture  frame  and  a  love  bird  in  a  tree,  and 
her  eyes !  Yet  after  all  no  man  can  reckon  on  that  blood, 
—  she  is  only  a  girl  of  the  hills  down  there,  and  the  next 
we  hear  of  her  she'll  likely  be  leaden'  a  little  revolution 
of  her  own." 

The  young  chap  made  no  reply,  but  busied  himself 
hastening  a  scant  breakfast  in  order  that  the  worn  mules 
be  got  to  water  before  the  worst  heat  of  a  dry  day.  Also 
the  losses  to  the  culinary  outfit  did  make  problems  for 
the  trip. 

Cap  eyed  him  askance  for  a  space,  and  then  with  a 
chuckle  wilfully  misconstrued  his  silence  and  lowered  his 
tone. 

"  I  don't  blame  you  for  feeling  downhearted  on  your 
luck,  Bub,  for  she  sure  was  a  looker!  But  it's  all  in  a 
lifetime,  and  as  you  ramble  along  in  years,  you'll  find  that 
most  any  hombre  can  steal  them,  and  take  them  home,  but 
when  it  comes  to  getting  a  permanent  clinch  on  the  female 
affections " 

Billie,  who  was  giving  a  short  ration  of  water  to  the 
burro,  called  across  to  ask  what  Kit  was  laughing  at  in 
that  hilarious  way.  She  also  stated  that  she  did  not  think 
it  a  morning  for  hilarity,  not  at  all !  That  wonderful, 
beautiful,  mystery  woman  might  be  going  to  her  death ! 

After  the  packs  were  all  on,  Cap  Pike  swung  the  mules 
of  the  first  wagon  into  the  home  trail  and  passed  over 
the  mesa  singing  rakishly. 

Oh-h!    Biddy  McGee  has  been  after  me, 
Since  I've  been  in  the  army! 


384 THE  TREASURE  TRAIL 

And  Billie  turned  in  the  saddle  to  take  a  last  look  over 
the  trail  where  the  woman  of  the  emerald  eyes  had  passed 
in  the  night. 

"All  my  life  I  have  looked,  and  looked  into  the  beau 
tiful  mirages  of  the  south  desert  wondering  what  would 
come  out  of  it — and  she  was  the  answer,"  she  said,  smil 
ing  at  Kit.  "  Tomorrow  I'll  feel  as  if  it  was  all  a  dream, 
all  but  the  wonderful  red  gold,  and  you !  Some  fine  day 
we'll  take  a  little  pasear  down  there,  I'll  follow  that  dream 
trail,  and " 

"You  will  not!'*  decided  the  chosen  of  her  heart  with 
rude  certainty.  "  The  dreams  of  that  land  of  mirages  are 
likely  to  breed  nightmares.  You  are  on  the  right  side 
of  the  border  for  women  to  stay.  Our  old  American 
eagle  is  a  pretty  safe  bird  to  roost  with/* 

"Well,"  debated  the  only  girl,  "if  it  comes  to  that, 
Mexico  also  has  the  eagle,  and  had  it  first ! " 

"  Yes,  contrary  child,"  he  conceded,  herding  the  mules 
into  line,  "so  it  has,  —  but  the  eagle  of  Mexico  is  still 
philandering  with  a  helmeted  serpent.  Wise  gamblers 
reserve  their  bets  on  that  game,  we  can  only  hope  that 
the  eagle  fights  its  way  free!" 


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